


Undeserved

by friendlyneighborhoodfairy



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fraxus Day, Freed believes if he loves Laxus well enough it's enough for Freed to be happy, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Injury, Laxus feels so ashamed of what he did to Freed during the battle of fairy tail, M/M, Running Away, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, asking someone out, believing you're unworthy, dating the wrong person, idiots trying to deserve each other, refusing to be taken care of, refusing to recover, turning someone down, way too dramatic for my own good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-01-24 18:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodfairy/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: Freed is worried someone is stalking Laxus. Laxus ignores him: he hates Freed doing things for him, widening the gulf between them. Laxus still has a lot to make up for from the Battle of Fairy Tail.So when Freed steps in front of a blade meant for Laxus and nearly dies himself, Laxus is furious. Freed, though, doesn't understand what he did wrong. He refuses help and pretends he's fine, hoping to make everyone happy--hiding the fact that his body is falling apart.Do not copy my work to other sites.
Relationships: Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine
Comments: 47
Kudos: 216





	1. Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Fraxus angst for Fraxus day! I thought it was today and not yesterday, so I'm a tad late. Enjoy the first two chapters for your trouble. ^^
> 
> This is possibly the most fraught and unrealistic thing I've ever written. But for once, I don't really care.

Freed stopped dead twenty paces from Laxus's front door. They'd planned to have breakfast and discuss what missions they'd take. Raising a hand, Freed swiped the air to nullify the jutsu shiki he always kept around Laxus's flat.

It wasn't there.

His hand tingled through empty air, magic buzzing inside him without an outlet, like an electric jolt running through his body.

He ran the last steps to Laxus's door and petted his hand, shakily, over where the second jutsu shiki should be. The one he never took down: anyone could enter it, they just couldn't use magic inside it. Only a Lightning Dragon Slayer could wield magic inside of this.

It was still there.

Freed was panting and jittery when he knocked on Laxus's door.

"What's up?" Laxus looked him up and down.

"Nothing happened?"

"What? Why?"

"No, it's…the jutsu shiki was down. The one…" Freed motioned toward the street.

"Oh." Laxus's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I must've forgotten to put it back up when I came home."

"Laxus." Freed eyed him: Laxus might get lost, but he didn't lose track of things like this. "There's…also a timer."

"What?"

"It resets again after five minutes. In case you ever forget. Which you don't. But just in case."

"Freed." Laxus rolled his eyes. "Oh my god, it's fine."

"I think someone…"

"I probably wrote the runes wrong," Laxus said, locking his door and leading Freed back out to the street. "Probably messed it up."

As Freed shook his head and rewrote the protective barrier, Laxus tapped Freed's nose.

"You're just paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid," Freed said, irked.

Laxus laughed. "You so are."

* * *

"There's a _guy_ on the front of Sorcerer's Weekly?" Laxus asked, seeing the magazine nearby as he flumped down next to Freed. The guild buzzed around them.

"I saw that too. It's that tsundere guy from Blue Pegasus; guess he's attractive enough to be worth putting in place of a sexy lady."

"You could be on the cover," Laxus said, looking over with suggestive eyebrows.

Freed flushed. "What? No, I couldn't."

"You don't think you're hotter than that guy?" Laxus smirked.

"I-I don't know. Who cares? I don't do things like that."

Laxus just laughed and Freed tried not to die of embarrassment.

Or think about whether _Laxus_ thought Freed was hotter than that guy…

* * *

Freed never again found the jutsu shiki down. He went over the runes and couldn't find any way that Laxus could disable the timer on accident, not without knowing a good bit about the magic.

Worse, when he inspected more closely there were fragments of his runes still hanging in the air. Dusty crumbling bits…

Ethernano-cancelling magic would do that. Take the particles of his magic and simple make them cease to exist, without having to cancel any runes or know any languages.

That was a bad sign.

So Freed kept his eyes open. During a job a month later, someone shot a tiny dart at Laxus. A miniscule, magical thing.

Laxus, speedy as he was, plucked it out of the air.

"Don't touch that!" Freed warned, seeing him inspecting the tip. "I've seen those before. They carry a curse, and if they hit you, the curse injects and activates."

"Who shot it?" Bickslow looked around.

"Probably one of the people we're here to catch," Laxus grunted, zapping the dart into ash. "Not that that'll fucking work on me."

Alert now, the four of them trod on, eyes on the hedges.

Idly Freed often wondered how quickly some parts of Laxus's mind must work to be able to keep up with things happening at the speed of electric current. To not crash into things—except things he intended to crash into—and to catch projectiles out of the air, a skill Laxus enjoyed showing off. Did the electricity affect synapses in Laxus's brain…?

They found their prey, finished their job, and tidied up. Even in his distraction, Freed—and Freed alone—noted that none of their opponents used magical weaponry.

"Don't you think that's strange?" he asked Laxus that night, whispering across the space between their futons. On Freed's other side, Bickslow snored.

"Nah. They just discarded the weapon at some point."

"We didn't find it anywhere."

"Yeah, but we destroyed their little barn of operations."

"_You _destroyed it."

"Yes," Laxus said proudly, "I did."

Freed snorted. Laxus had a point.

* * *

One night they were moping in Freed's kitchen drinking lukewarm cocoa.

"You ever dated?" Laxus asked. "I forget."

"No." Freed couldn't help blushing. He hated that he was 'inexperienced,' but he'd only ever seriously wanted one person.

"Me neither," Laxus sighed, and Freed looked at him in surprise.

"I thought you dated—" Freed stifled a yawn, "—Cana."

"Cana?"

"For just a little bit. Couple years ago."

"Nah. You sound like Mira. She always wanted to believe that was more than what it was: friendship." Laxus toyed with the handle on his mug, chin on his hand. "I'm not interested in women. At least I don't think."

"Really? But…"

"Said I was pan. Yeah, I know. I mean, I'm not sure. Sometimes I find enbies or women hot. But I just haven't gotten into many people. It's fully possible I never fall for anyone again. Or maybe next time could be a woman for the first time. I'm kinda demi like that. If there's a woman, though, she has to be special."

Laxus smiled, and Freed returned it.

"Special people can be hard to find," Freed said quietly.

"That's why I've got you, isn't it?"

* * *

"You are being _paranoid._ How many times do I have to say it?"

"Laxus," Freed growled, "it just doesn't make sense. I'm worried about your safety."

"Not everything is going to make sense in life."

"That's no excuse."

"Actually," Laxus said sobering, "it is. Freed, I think you're smart enough you've come to expect the world to always be logical and organized for you. But even you can't know everything."

Freed sighed and dropped the subject.

* * *

Laxus was concerned about Freed's obsession with potential hazards to Laxus's life. It didn't feel right, when Laxus still owed him after all he'd put Freed through before his exile, and Freed having never forgiven him for it. If Laxus _were_ in danger (and he wasn't convinced he was), wouldn't it be a better apology for him to take care of it himself instead of bothering Freed?

* * *

Laxus was just so confident about there being nobody out to get him. So confident…and Freed trusted him. When Laxus said nobody should worry, Freed decided to obey.

He hated it, but he told himself that he was good enough to catch any threat that arose before Laxus got hurt. He'd honed himself into an impeccable warrior precisely for Laxus's sake.

* * *

Laxus sometimes forgot that his face showed expressions now, beyond the wall-like sneer he once used to keep people at bay. Sneering hurt now, knowing how much he'd done to everyone here; but he hadn't come up with a good replacement to keep people off his back.

Which explained why Freed came up to him at the bar and asked, "What's wrong?"

Laxus grunted. The thing about having a teammate who was persistent in their work was…they were persistent.

"Nothing," he said, not that it would help.

Sure enough, Freed slid onto the stool beside him and popped a peanut in his mouth.

"You look like you're moping," Freed said after a minute.

Laxus glared at him.

"I'm just saying it like I see it." Freed shrugged without turning.

Laxus stared at the back wall for a while.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" he finally asked.

"Me?" Freed looked around in surprise.

"You've got lots of friends," Laxus murmured. "You're quite popular. But that's not the same thing. I just mean…you don't share your thoughts with people very often. Do you wish you could more?"

Freed seemed to be thinking his answer over for a while, long enough that Laxus wondered if he'd reply.

"I suppose it would be nice," Freed said slowly. "But I'm also happy as I am. If I didn't have you—have you all on the team—it would be different."

He gave Laxus a smile that was, on the surface, cheerful.

Laxus scowled. "With the best friends in the world, what more do you need, right?"

"Exactly," Freed chuckled. "I said that almost word-for-word to Mira the other day."

"Did she agree, or laugh in your face?"

"Um, neither? I think she's somewhere in the middle."

"With Mira, it's a fifty-fifty chance," Laxus snorted. "Sometimes she's supportive of whatever someone's feeling, and other times she has very fixed opinions about who should date whom."

"Yes. But you're lonely?" Freed asked.

God damn him, still on the point.

"Hmph. Maybe; I don't know. But it's a moot point. I'm—I'm not…"

Laxus stopped. He didn't know how to end that sentence. He couldn't put it into words.

_I fought you._

"Laxus," Freed said, "I'm sure you're not as alone as you think. And," he took a breath, "somewhere out there, I'm sure, there's someone who will love you, regardless of the 'buts' you come up with."

Laxus snorted and looked away.

"Laxus," Freed said, a strange note in his voice, "would you go out with _me?_"

"What?"

Freed's mouth twisted up in a funny little smile. "Just asking."

"Hah," Laxus said, looking down at the bar. What a thing to ask. Barring everything else—at the very least, Freed did not deserve that kind of hardship.

"So that's a 'no,' then?"

"What do you think?" Laxus snorted, trying to get into the good humor that Freed seemed to be in. Was this some kind of joke?

"Well, I suppose now I know," Freed said, meeting his eyes briefly with a teasing smirk that matched Laxus's.

Laxus was relieved when Freed ate another peanut and excused himself. It had to be the most uncomfortable conversation they'd had since he came back.

* * *

The Raijinshuu were just sitting in a pub minding their own business.

The moment was a golden one. Laxus had told a joke. He was laughing; Bickslow choking due to inhaling his beer; Ever wiping off her glasses as she cry-laughed. Laxus lifted his tankard to take a drink. Freed was watching him in admiration and broke into a beaming grin when Laxus gave the finale punch line.

The acid came out of nowhere.

A girl tripped and the next thing Freed knew, her drink had spilled on Laxus—and Laxus shouted and leapt up.

Freed was still rising, fighting unsteadiness, and reaching for his sword. He saw things happening too fast for his reflexes. Too fast. The young woman swiped out with the knife. Freed saw the look in her eye as she stabbed into Laxus's side. While Laxus was distracted by chemical burns and Freed was intoxicated and nobody on the team could react because they weren't on the alert.

Freed should've always been on the alert. That was his _job._

* * *

Laxus needed a week until he could move his arms again. The stab wound was luckily minimal: he'd thrashed, and he had a lot of muscle mass protecting vital organs. But the acid burn on his back blistered and oozed.

Laxus walked around shirtless much of the time, which gave Freed plenty of opportunities to see scabs and scars and feel guilty. Shame squeezed his heart until it was hard to breathe, and Freed had to leave suddenly one day when it all became too much. Outside, panting, he waited for the panicked spots to recede from his vision. It was all his fault.

_It was all his fault._

The more he thought it, the harder it was to carry out his tasks. Days turned to plodding and nausea kept him from eating much, while strange pains in his chest made him short of breath at random times. Though he did his best to hide his unease, he knew he was short-tempered.

"Maybe you should take this one off," Ever suggested one day as they grabbed a mission flyer. "The three of us can do it."

Freed was appalled.

"I'll be fine," he said, with the best imitation of a bright laugh that he'd ever pulled off.

Ever smiled at him and nobody said anything further.

Freed pressed himself harder. He took on more of the work on their jobs; he mentally flogged himself any time his attention to Laxus's surroundings flagged.

He wasn't sleeping well and knew it affected his performance. But grumpiness was forgivable if it meant protecting Laxus.

The fact that woman was still out there was Freed's doing, after all. He hadn't gone after her. Been too caught up in making sure Laxus was okay. Hadn't chased her down when he had the chance, and now she was loose. With the lengths she'd gone to, she wouldn't give up just because she'd tipped her hand.

When the next attack came, Freed had to be there to stop it.


	2. Unasked

Freed looked a little tired when he and Laxus rose in the morning for their job. Laxus didn't blame him. Their walk had ended up five kilometers longer than advertised, and the ryokan had a strange smell.

"Where should we start cave-hunting?" Laxus asked as they set out after breakfast.

"Hm?"

"Trees or waterside?"

"Oh. Um, whichever." Freed waved a hand with a wan smile. "I don't care."

"Trees," Laxus said. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

He hated fighting around bodies of water. They had a tendency of diffusing his lightning.

Freed seemed to be considering the same thing, for he said, "Why don't I take the lake, and you take the forest?"

"It's fine."

"Laxus." Freed's tone was so solemn that Laxus turned bodily around to look at him. "You know I would stand between you and death if I had the choice. I definitely don't mind standing between you and a little water. Let me do this for you."

Laxus stared, confused by the seriousness. "O…kay…?"

"Besides," Freed smiled, "last time you were around a lake, you got seasick just from looking at the waves."

"Ugh, true."

Freed's grin finally got Laxus to chuckle.

Freed put a hand on his shoulder. "See you in a bit, then."

"Yep. Hey, Freed."

The rune mage looked back.

"Race you," Laxus grinned.

* * *

As Freed rounded the beach, it began to rain. Literally out of a clear blue sky.

The hair rose on his arms.

Sweeping the hillside with his gaze, he tried to find a likely meadow. In a storm, Laxus would always go to a wide open area to collect the bolts. It powered him up. It also made him, very briefly, a perfect target.

An unnatural storm, a vulnerable Dragon Slayer…

Laxus was right: they shouldn't have split up.

_Baka. You're supposed to be smart._

Freed's thoughts were furious. This was his own negligence. He was supposed to be Laxus's bodyguard. He was supposed to protect Laxus with his life. Laxus was the weapon; Freed was the armor. His defense.

Freed couldn't claim to love him and then fail him this deeply.

The rain poured down in sheets now. Wind buffeted him as he held his hand up, trying to see. Freed just had to find him.

Lightning cracked the cloudless sky. Freed veered toward it, tripping over stones and sliding into trees. He would have quite a few bruises when this was over.

He entered a meadow and fought his way up it, the wind growing with every step. It felt like he was fighting the very air, every move hard-won. When he finally crested the hill, his legs were wobbling columns. Stumbling, he surveyed the rain-beaten grass.

Soaking and unperturbed, Laxus sat cross-legged.

Freed didn't shout his name, didn't call to him as he struggled toward the man. Laxus would hear his footsteps—or not, but either way, it wouldn't matter. Freed was going to his side.

The ache in his heart told him he had to do this. _Make it right._

Getting closer, he stopped and searched the surrounding trees. That girl was here somewhere.

Lightning struck Laxus without warning, throwing Freed violently to the ground some meters away. His body dashed on sharp edges and his temple hit stone. For a brief moment, that thought rebounded: his head had hit _hard_.

Pain swelled under his temple and he let out an involuntary groan.

He was half-deaf from the thunderous roar, and when he looked up, he found Laxus locked in combat with the woman Freed had chased through his dreams off and on for months.

The woman who'd try to kill Laxus.

It was Freed's fault. That she was here at all—it was all his fault.

And now, she had created the perfect time to strike. And her ethernano-canceling magic was a terrible match for anyone, even a powered-up Laxus.

She and the Dragon Slayer crouched across from each other, a blade in her fist. Laxus, even hard-willed Laxus, was struggling, having to forego lightning and use his fists, dodging her attacks but unable to get any hits of his own.

Freed drew his sword.

His heart lightened as he ran into the fight. Laxus would never feel the same about him as he did for Laxus—he knew that. And he knew he'd fucked up in letting this woman roam free.

So it was joy that sang through him as he flew between them; as he slashed and parried; as he saw an opening and took it.

It didn't matter what happened next. The only person who mattered was Laxus.

* * *

Laxus watched in shock as Freed got between him and his opponent. He watched Freed's blade dance with the fervor he only got when he was truly furious.

A part of Laxus was irked, another part awed, and the main part of him fully confused.

Freed always had a plan. So this was deliberate. It was just that usually he communicated his plans ahead of time, and they rarely required Laxus to stand off to the side.

He watched in surprise when Freed, skilled and insightful Freed, didn't parry one of the woman's thrusts. When he lunged at her, past her defenses, her blade leveled.

The Dragon Slayer couldn't believe it.

He watched Freed crash into her, his sword piercing into her chest with the force, skewering himself on her blade as he pushed forward.

A second later, Freed staggered to the side.

He fell in slow motion. A crumpled fall: body curling up and losing its strength, folding like a mangled paper. Freed hit earth with a sound that reverberated through Laxus's body.

The woman was dead—Laxus hardly spared her a glance: his heightened senses told him plenty—and beside her, Freed looked to be having a seizure, body jerking. When Laxus tried to roll him, Freed jerked, fear-filled eyes meeting his.

"Lax—us—" he said, "Lax…safe?"

Before Laxus could even think of responding, Freed's words turned to panting, eyes falling shut. Panting turned to wheezing, and then to coughing, and then Freed was truly limp, no more in the land of the conscious.

Laxus already had Freed in his arms.

He had to be so careful, the woman's blade still in Freed's gut, and Laxus didn't dare take it out: he knew what happened to wounds left to pump out blood mercilessly. And this one was at an angle up toward Freed's ribcage. He couldn't jostle Freed, either, in case it sank the blade deeper.

Laxus did his best to hold Freed absolutely still as he burst into the sky in a whirl of speed.

The hour of travel blurred as Laxus's magic depleted, until he careened through the ceiling of the guild with barely enough magic to land on his feet.

The immediate clamor surged into a focused force aimed at the pale body in his arms. Several people tried to be helpful and unhelpfully pressed in; someone else shouted about Porlyusica; he heard Ever make a strangled noise, and Bickslow ran up with his helmet off and eyes wide. A hand on Laxus's elbow tugged him toward the infirmary.

Freed looked so small and pale.

Laxus could hardly hear him breathing when he put Freed down on a cot. He could just see a telltale flutter of pulse in Freed's throat. He looked so vulnerable, face blank of his usual solemnity and determination, body and limbs lying loose around him like frayed bits of string straggling off his thin body. When had Freed lost so much weight? Laxus couldn't remember; couldn't believe he hadn't noticed until now.

"He hasn't been eating," Mira said, as if reading his thoughts, and her worried stare hurt in Laxus's chest.

How long had this been going on?

And Freed had told him nothing. Not that he was worried; not why. He'd just pretended all was normal, and Laxus, who could tell there was something under the surface of Freed's façade, had been content to let him be.

Wrong decision.

Now it was too late. Freed's life lay in soaking pools across his shirt and the futon and the blanket they pulled up over his shivering skeleton. At least Freed was still trembling from time to time. Shock. Adrenaline. These were only things that happened to the still-alive.

There was hope yet.

Laxus put his face in his hands and rubbed at his eyes, feeling the building pressure of a headache. He hadn't known. He hadn't asked. He hadn't pressed. He should've pressed.

Why would Freed push Laxus and his opponent bodily apart; why blatantly get himself stabbed to finish her off?

Freed did not normally go for the kill.

"I'm not sure what I can do," Porlyusica was saying to someone. Laxus snatched at the words, finding Freed's hand and clasping it for reassurance, eyes still closed against reality. "Everyone get the fuck out. I need to do my work. Scram."

There was the shuffle and grunting of people filing out. Laxus did not look up or let go. Porlyusica began muttering as if he weren't there.

At one point during her ministrations, Laxus felt his own body begin to quiver, the shaking quickly taking him over and making his teeth chatter in his head. He felt ice-cold, even though he was sweating, and the world spun in a dizzying loop that got bigger and bigger and bigger…

He couldn't lose Freed. Freed did not deserve this. He had worked hard, fought hard, learned hard… And the pair of them, they were a matched set, neither one going far without the other. The idea of going on a mission without Freed was as painful as the sensations now pushing sparks behind his eyes.

"Shock," Porlyusica said close at hand. "Take this."

She held something out and he took it, and his mental litany of _why, why, why_ turned into an organized procession of every agonizing thought accosting him one by one until he wanted to sleep.

He just wanted to understand.


	3. Unwanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed isn't getting better. Laxus is pissed.

Freed was shivering. They were trying to stay on top of keeping him warm, but even hot rocks (care of a kind and concerned Natsu) had not stopped Freed's trembling for more than half an hour.

When Laxus touched his cheek, half to try to stop his head from jerking violently, he found Freed's cheek eerily chilly.

Reaching under the woolen blanket, he touched Freed's hand and startled.

"Damn. This," he told Mira, pulling the blanket off, "is colder on the inner side."

She watched as he pushed up Freed's sleeve to feel his wrist.

"Colder than the air," Laxus growled. "We've been insulating him in the cold."

"Shit," she breathed.

Throwing the blanket on another cot, Laxus rose. Freed's lips were blue. Gods, this should be _easy_ to fix. "Natsu still around?"

"I'll check."

Laxus curled on the bed next to Freed, putting his warmth around Freed as much as possible. In reaction, Freed began to shiver again, but that was a good sign: his body reacting to warmth.

The constant state of alertness and worry had not left Laxus since Freed had collapsed on the hillside, and it made his body warmer than usual. He had plenty to share. Especially with Freed.

As he waited, Laxus carefully inspected the bandage. The deep wound went up under the edge of Freed's ribs but missed his lung and major arteries, according to Porlyusica. Wendy was off on a mission, or else they might've closed the wound entirely by this point; but Porlyusica was doing her slower arts and magicks, and Freed wasn't in _immediate_ danger. He just wasn't out of it yet.

"We'll get you better," Laxus told him. "Promise. I'm sorry this happened. I don't know why it did, but we're doing all we can."

Freed slept on, looking lost.

* * *

Thoughts on food, Laxus went to the doorway and Evergreen hurtled around the corner into his chest.

"Sorry," she said, blinking and righting herself.

She looked up at him.

"You're a fucking mountain," she snorted, and he smiled a little. She continued past him into the room and looked down at Freed. "Idiot."

"Who?"

"He is," she growled. "Freed Justine, I can't believe you got yourself this badly hurt."

Returning to the bed, Laxus peered between Freed's still face and her furrowed one.

"It's not his fault," he began, but Ever shook her head sharply.

"Yes, it is. You know as well as I do Freed is better than this. Hear that, baka?" she said, touching Freed's hand. "I know you did this on purpose. I know it's not an accident. And when you open your eyes, you're going to get a piece of my mind about it. A hundred fucking pieces of my mind."

"Ever," Laxus tried, holding his hand out, but her lip curled and she went right on.

"I half-suspect you're faking unconsciousness right now. Freed…you asshole. You're supposed to get me and Bickslow in on things. To ask for help. Not this."

Coming around the bed, Laxus put a hand on her arm.

"I know," he said.

She nodded and looked despairingly down at their charge. Laxus, who had wanted to leave someone else in the room while he got food, did not think it wise to leave Evergreen by herself.

"C'mere," he said, motioning toward the door and following her out. "We'll find… Hey, Bicks, can you stay? Just…you know, watch him?"

"Sure." Bickslow looked surprised, rising from where he'd been hunched over an empty plate at the bar. In a quieter and gentler voice, he said, "Of course. Can't leave him alone."

"We could, but I don't want to. Just in case."

Bickslow patted Evergreen's shoulder as he passed them, and Evergreen made a sound that might've been a sniffle. Laxus was pretty sure that if she _were_ crying, she would maim him if he noticed, so he kept his eyes on Mira as he went to the bar and requested something to eat.

"What would you like?" Mira asked.

"Anything, honestly. Whatever you make tastes good."

"Thank you." She smiled. "It'll be right out. You too, Ever?"

"Yeah."

The two teammates sat and Ever picked at her nails while Laxus surveyed his knuckles.

"So," he said, "why do you blame him for it?"

"Because Freed's better than that," she said, turning to him with sincerity. "You know as well as I do. You said there was one opponent? One. And there were two of you. You can't tell me the two of you would've lost in that scenario. He _let_ himself be reckless and get hurt."

"It's wasn't really two on one," Laxus said. "First it was me against her, and then Freed just…cut in. Took over the fight. Well, for two seconds. I hardly had time to react before…"

He motioned back at the infirmary.

Fuck, it was like Freed didn't think Laxus was good enough to fight. That would have nothing to do with Freed's estimation of Laxus's abilities: it meant Laxus was in violation of Freed's code.

Laxus wasn't sure where though.

With Freed it was hard to tell, because Freed did not like to verbally reprimand Laxus for anything.

He was too prone to anger, perhaps? Still too violent, definitely. Too impulsive. All the things Laxus kept trying and trying not to be, but his past would not let him go. He wanted to be better. He wanted Freed to tell him, just once, that he was improving.

Ever shook her head.

"Blocking you from the fight is a stupid move. And Freed isn't stupid. This is an asshole move."

"Ever."

"It is."

"He's not an asshole," Laxus said.

"Dick. Pussy. Whatever word you want to use."

"I try not to use pleasurable anatomy as an insult."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

But it successfully slowed her tirade, and instead she leaned over and bumped shoulders with him. At least, she bumped her shoulder against his elbow due to the height difference.

"I hope he wakes up soon," Ever said.

Laxus nudged her back, drawing comfort from the touch. "Me, too."

* * *

When they returned from their meal—Mira had sweetly made pork tonkatsu, Laxus's favorite—they found Bickslow sitting on the bed across from Freed, feet kicked up by Freed's leg, recounting a dramatic tale.

"…at which point I ran, because who the fuck wouldn't? Except that ended up working my favor because—"

"Yo," Ever said.

"Oh. Hey."

"How's he doing?" Laxus asked.

Bickslow grimaced and shrugged. "Same."

Laxus sighed.

As he retook his chair, Evergreen settled on the edge of Freed's bed, hand scudding over Freed's where it lay on the blanket.

"Sorry," she told the still form. "I still think you're an idiot, though. And I want you to wake up."

"Yeah," Bickslow said. "I've been telling him that, too."

* * *

Laxus told himself it was an improvement: at least Freed was generating his own heat now.

Via a fever.

"There are toxins in his blood. Seemed the blade nicked bone quite hard. He's fighting off infections. This is normal," Porlyusica told Laxus during her evening check-in.

It might be normal, but Laxus didn't have to like it.

The next morning as the Raijinshuu ate around the foot of his bed, Freed opened his eyes.

It was Bickslow who noticed, gasping and making the rest of them whip around.

Flushed and bloodshot, Freed's gaze wavered, his only expression sleepiness. In seconds that seemed like hours, he shut his eyes.

"That was an improvement," Ever said hopefully, drawing his hair to the side as they gathered close, just in case he came back. He did not, but they stayed close throughout the morning.

When Porlyusica came at noon, her expression was not positive.

"Still feverish," she muttered, checking the wound. "And shit, this is actively bleeding. The poultice should've fixed that…"

Minutes passed in breathless silence while she continued to meddle.

"Is something wrong?" Laxus asked finally.

"He's just…not fighting through it as hard as I'd like," she said. "Nor as much as I'd expect for someone who is mostly healthy."

"Mostly?" Bickslow said.

"He lost a lot of weight recently," Ever said quietly. "Keeps forgetting to eat. Stress."

"Oh, is that why?" Porlyusica raised a sharp eyebrow. "Baka. He should know better. And yes, the fact that he's undernourished is going to make this take longer. Still. Justine is strong and I hoped for more. We'll see what happens."

And with that, she swept out.

Throughout the afternoon, Freed seemed to come to wakefulness several more times, but he never responded to them, merely gazing around before slumbering once more.

"I know he's supposed to be healing," Bickslow said, "but this sucks. I kinda want to shake him and get him to talk to us."

"Don't," Laxus snapped.

"I'm not going to, obviously. I'm just saying."

"The point isn't to ease our worry; it's for him to get better. If sleeping and not talking means he's healthier, then I'm okay with it."

Bickslow nodded while Laxus tried to calm down. They were all on edge and tired.

"Bicks," Evergreen said, taking Bickslow's arm, "let's get food."

In the silence left behind, Laxus watched Freed more closely, noticing the way his eyes fluttered beneath their lids, how his breathing was regular now but still shallow.

"You need to fight, Freed," he muttered. "You're worrying everyone. Even Mira looked concerned earlier, and you know how calm she is under pressure. Please fight for us."

He reached out and took Freed's hand in both of his. They said physical touch helped: knowing people were there. It changed your brain balance. Laxus would do whatever it took.

Bickslow and Ever were still out when Freed's eyes fluttered yet again.

"Hey, there," Laxus said gently, moving into Freed's line of view. Even if Freed didn't respond, talking to him couldn't hurt. "This is good. You're getting better. You're fighting."

Freed made a little sound and closed his eyes again.

Letting out a breath, Laxus very gently brushed a finger down Freed's cheek. When a shiver jerked through Freed's body, Laxus immediately drew closer. Chilly again. Luckily, body heat had proven effective.

"I know you can do this," Laxus said as he perched at Freed's side. He wasn't sure what else to say—he was not a good encourager. "I know you'll pull through. It's okay if you need to sleep. Sleeping is good for you."

Surprisingly, Freed's eyes opened again, and after a moment he focused on Laxus, brows drawing down in a confused frown.

"Hi." Laxus smiled; Freed was still making eye contact. "Glad to see you somewhat awake."

Freed made a hoarse humming sound. It wasn't words, but Laxus beamed. It was communication.

"You're in the guild infirmary. In case you don't remember, you got stabbed," Laxus said, finding Freed's hand again and squeezing the lifeless fingers. "But Porlyusica's got you and you're here with us. It's safe and you're going to be okay."

Eyebrows scrunching in sudden distress, Freed whimpered.

"Hey, hey, what is it? Are you in pain?"

Freed closed his eyes.

But then, very hoarse and faint, Freed whispered, " 'Kay?"

"Yeah, you are. Will be, anyway."

"You…"

"I am, too. Thanks to you."

" 'M…not dead."

"Nope. You came pretty close, though," Laxus admitted. "Porlyusica said the wound isn't fatal by itself, but it was still deep and you bled a lot. She had to give you a transfusion. But I got you here in just enough time. Good thing I'm fast."

Freed let out a tense breath.

"…yeah," he whispered sadly.

As Laxus continued massaging his fingers, a tear slipped down Freed's cheek. It squeezed Laxus's chest.

"There's nothing to worry about," Laxus insisted. "I swear to you, we've got it under control. You just need to focus on fighting, okay? Focus on rest and getting better."

Freed shook his head, another tear sliding free.

"Freed?"

"Nnn… No."

"Come on—"

"Don'want," Freed whispered. "Don'…"

A shuffle in the doorway preceded Ever and Bickslow appearing, the pair hurrying over.

"Hey, you're awake," Ever said, much more tender than the previous day. "What's the matter, Freed?" She glanced at Laxus in concern. "Is he in pain?"

"Not sure."

"Go'way," Freed croaked.

"Oi. Don't tell us that," Bickslow said gently.

"That's not going to happen, you dolt." Evergreen touched Freed's shoulder. "We're staying right here until you get better."

"Don'…don't…"

"Why not?" Laxus asked.

"Don't wan' better," Freed murmured. He exhaled, and it sounded labored. "Stop."

Another harsh breath sawed out of him, and now fear flared in Laxus's heart, causing him to lean over Freed and try to get his attention.

"Rest, Freed. Lie back and rest."

Despite another tear escaping, Freed unclenched, sinking into the bedclothes. After some time, his breathing returned to the shallow, sleepy inhales of before.

Laxus let out his own breath.

"What was that?" Ever whispered, looking over at him. "He doesn't want to get better?"

"I don't know. He acted confused at first, and then he got…almost scared."

"What did you say to him?" Bickslow asked.

"Nothing," Laxus protested. "I told him he was safe and everything was alright. He just freaked out."

Wearing a brooding frown, Ever tapped her chin.

"Maybe he's worried there's more people out there who are after you, Laxus. Or maybe it's…" She bit her lip. "I mean, his brain is in trauma mode right now. Maybe it's adrenaline and whatever else, and he might not be fully aware of things, and is still afraid that… does he even know she's dead?"

"No clue," Laxus sighed. "I'm still not certain whether he meant to do that."

"I'm guessing not," Bickslow said. "It's not like him."

"It isn't," Laxus agreed.

He stared at Freed's now-placid face. The tracks of tears still marked his cheeks, and Laxus tried to wipe them away.

"Fight," he murmured.

* * *

Freed hated coming back to consciousness. Every time, there were more people and more pains. Every time, Laxus was staring at him with a concerted frown, as if focused entirely on Freed's ailment, and he kept telling Freed to relax, heal, get better.

It was Laxus specifically who was always saying it, because Laxus always seemed to be there. Their other teammates were around often, and Mira occasionally, but Laxus didn't seem to ever leave. It didn't make sense: Laxus didn't have to do all that for him—it wasn't like he cared specially. If Laxus wanted to be a friend and only a friend, he should goddamn act like one, not…so intimate.

Such a mockery.

Freed didn't want to push through. He wanted to forget his own existence and wake up to a world without Laxus's gaze. A world where he could quietly go about his work without the scrutiny of others. Maybe a world where he didn't know Laxus at all. If he'd never met Laxus, never fallen for him…then none of it would've happened.

Everybody would live happily ever after.

Freed didn't want to face up to what was clearly obvious now that he wasn't consumed with Laxus's stalker: he'd almost given his life for someone who did not share those feelings. It wasn't healthy. It was dangerous—such unrestricted sacrifice had the potential for abuse.

Freed had been abusing himself, actually. When he asked himself why he'd done it, the terrible answer was: to prove that he loved Laxus.

Nobody needed that proof. Nobody cared. _It didn't matter._ And this wasn't the best way to take care of his best friend, by a long shot.

And yet, he'd do it again. He hated that his mind kept telling him how bad his choices were and yet he didn't stop.

The only way to get out of this unhealthy cycle was to be away from Laxus. A very serious part of Freed did not want to guard Laxus any longer: he could carve out a different life, alone, and learn to live healthily. He wouldn't be hurting himself anymore.

No more of these self-inflicted injuries.

Gods, his chest ached.

Every time he thought about Laxus and felt that awful twinge of realization—that this ache in his heart was one-sided and pointless and destroying him—it pulled physically at his wounds. He was semi-awake when Porlyusica checked in one afternoon, grumbling angrily that he'd started bleeding again.

It was a macabre idea, but his heartbreak might just be making this worse. Irony.

But it was comforting, because the worse the pain, the less time he spent awake. Every time he fell unconscious, more time would pass without his heart constantly breaking. If enough time passed, everyone would leave and Freed would finally be alone, to get better in silence and figure out how to live the way normal people did.

If Laxus would just leave, Freed could begin learning how to love and care for himself.

Laxus didn't leave. He was always there, always murmuring encouragement, always touching Freed. Freed let the pain of Laxus's presence squeeze his chest until he couldn't breathe, lungs cut with sharp stabs, and blessedly he would slip into the blackness again.

* * *

They tried to get Freed eating. It had been two days and he needed nourishment. But he never stayed awake long enough, and whenever they tried to slip at least a few bites down him, he shut his mouth and groaned until he fell asleep again.

Laxus was getting desperate.

"Something's wrong," he admitted to Mira privately at the bar—Ever was watching Freed and Bickslow at home sleeping. "He should be more lucid. Porlyusica stopped the bleeding, but then it started again. She's worried about fluid buildup in his chest. He's still not breathing right. And he's not just weak: he's _refusing_ to eat."

Mira frowned, blue eyes searching his face.

"You're sure?"

"Oh yes, it's very clear refusal. If you have secrets to get him to open his mouth and get liquid down him, be my guest. There's only so much magic can do: he needs to actually eat."

"Avoiding food…" Mira shook her head, staring at the nearest window. "But why?"

"Wish I fucking knew," Laxus sighed. "He's a mystery to me right now."

He glanced over to where a picture of the Fairy Tail guildmates hung, finding Freed's green head easily, next to a tall blonde figure, someone sticking their tongue out, and a short woman saluting with her glasses. Freed had always been a part of them, and he had always seemed happy. Had they done something? Had something changed?

"Laxus." Mira's small, warm hand landed on his arm and drew his attention back. "You're very anxious about him."

"I don't like the idea of a teammate losing fucking physical function while there's something I could do about it."

"But what can you do?" she asked gently. "Short of prying his mouth open; though I wouldn't recommend it—choking hazard. You can't make him heal, Laxus. You can only be there and listen."

"To what little he says," Laxus sighed. "He hardly talks, but when he does, it's always along the lines of _I don't want to get better._ Who the fuck says that? I hate hearing that. Is he just saying that to make us go away? Does he want space? Why doesn't he just ask for it?"

"I don't know," she said. "But maybe you should ask him more pointedly what's going on."

"I want to," Laxus said. "But if he refuses to tell me, I'm going to be even madder than I already am."

* * *

Freed was not fighting. He did not want to. He just wanted everything to go black.

* * *

"Freed."

Laxus's voice, so gentle as it had grown the last few days, woke him. Freed lay cricked and crumpled, somehow having rolled onto his side and curled around his injury and now _everything_ hurt.

"Let's readjust you," Laxus said, moving his pillow. "You don't need to strain a muscle on top of everything else."

Freed kept his eyes closed but obeyed the quiet request, too tired to argue. His body felt more and more worn out each day, as if the act of healing were stealing away energy from every other part of him.

"Hey," Laxus murmured.

Freed realized he'd let out a noise. Pain was such a constant.

"You okay?" Laxus asked.

"Mm," Freed whispered noncommittally. _Does it matter?_

To his absolute surprise, there was a soft touch on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open as Laxus traced his skin.

"You don't look good," Laxus sighed. "You look exhausted. You really should eat something."

Freed shook his head. Not enough to dislodge Laxus's fingers, though.

"Freed."

Laxus forced Freed to meet his gaze, and the concern there was heart-rending.

"Why aren't you eating? If it hurts, we need to know, or else we can't help you."

"No…" Freed said weakly. His voice sounded thin and unused. He'd hardly spoken since waking up. "I…don't…"

"Don't you want to get better?"

Freed closed his eyes. He was so tired.

"Why not?" Laxus asked, his fingers beginning a slow massage through the hair at Freed's temple. "Freed…did something happen?"

Freed shook his head rapidly, but it wasn't in denial. The sharp motion dislodged a tear, and before he knew it, the tear had leaked down his cheek toward the pillow.

Laxus wiped it away. Freed's heart fluttered and he hated it. Laxus was being so kind.

"Why did you kill her, Freed?"

Without hesitation, he said, "She wanted you dead."

"Lots of people do."

"Most of them don't stalk you with that…" He paused to gasp. "…Level of dedication."

"Would you—" Laxus's voice cracked. "Would you even tell me what was wrong? If you were healthy, would you even be honest with me, or is this a secret I don't get to know?"

"There's nothing—"

"Stop it. I don't know what's going on. Seriously, what happened?"

Fearing words, Freed closed his eyes against more tears and moved his hand feebly across the blanket toward Laxus. When Laxus's fingers intertwined with his, Freed let out a breath, squeezing tight and wishing he could move to pull that hand to his lips, communicate the forbidden unspeakables inside him.

Maybe for Laxus, for the sake of saying goodbye, he could.

Tensing, Freed drew Laxus's fingers to his mouth and kissed them. He let it linger a second before dropping their hands to his chest, inhaling deep against the pain.

"Freed," Laxus said.

Freed looked away.

"I love you," he whispered.

Laxus breathed. His solid warmth did not leave Freed's chest. Soon another hand came up to cover Freed's shoulder, squeezing his exhausted muscles.

"And we love you, too. I'm not going anywhere. So please, whatever happened…please let us take care of you. It hurts to see you like this."

Freed gasped an inhale—a sob that released a thousand regrets into the air.

"Okay," he whispered as Laxus wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Okay."


	4. Unlucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, Freed said he'd try harder to heal. But it wasn't a strict promise...

Eating hurt.

Freed didn't tell them: they would ask why and where and did it help if they… He grimaced and bore it, just as he bore everything they put him through.

Eating was not the worst of his hardships.

Breathing was more painful. Porlyusica gave him exercises to help his healing diaphragm. Each attempt at a deep inhale ripped through him, and that was not hyperbole.

"I can't!" he'd finally shouted—well, violently whispered—at her, and then proceeded to cough and wheeze for several minutes.

That apparently satisfied her that his pain was real.

So instead she said he needed to spend less time prone and, if he could, move around. This torture was more mental than physical, because while he could (with significant help from Laxus) rise, there was still a part of him that didn't _want_ to.

When these immediate threats to his wellbeing weren't present, the rest of his time was boredom and a dull ache taking over his brain. The Raijinshuu all helped as best they could.

"Wanna hear a joke?" Bickslow asked, putting his feet up on the edge of Freed's bed and tilting his chair back.

"Not really," Freed coughed.

"Oh. Right. Laughing." Bickslow looked so depressed, _that_ almost made Freed laugh. "How about a story, then?"

"Sure."

"Ummm, well, you've missed the latest guild drama."

"Oh dear."

"Oh yes." Bickslow grinned. "Gajeel is dating someone, but he won't say who, and Natsu keeps trying to beat it out of him. I think he's keeping the secret just to piss Natsu off at this point."

"You'd think a Dragon Slayer would be able to smell it. Well, who is it? You only grin like that when you know something."

"You have to guess first," Bickslow beamed.

"Hmm. Juvia perhaps? They're close."

"Nope. I saw him making out with a red-haired fellow whom Laxus informs me isn't in our guild."

"Erik," Freed nodded. "Of course. They're also quite close."

"Also, Master caught Juvia with Cana in his office," Bickslow chuckled. "I don't think it was just kissing: you had to have seen their faces. Bright red."

Freed smiled. "With Cana that would not surprise me."

"True," Bickslow snorted. "Let's see. Laxus has been hanging out with Mira more; I don't know if anything's in that. I kinda hope there is."

"Laxus?" Freed said in as smooth a voice as he could.

"Yeah. Actually laughing and stuff. It's good to see him not under stress." He glanced at Freed. "Not that you're a stressor, he's just due for some goofing off, you know? He doesn't really take breaks."

Freed understood that well: he didn't either. Maybe that was why Laxus didn't. Maybe it was his fault for exhausting Laxus and not realizing. And if Laxus were finding solace in Mira…maybe that was Freed's fault too. He'd pushed Laxus away with his rigidity and work addiction. Too busy to see what Laxus needed.

Maybe Laxus was better off others.

A new pain tingled down his arms into his palms, collecting there like unshed tears.

* * *

"Seen Ever?" Laxus asked, approaching the bar where Mira sat flicking through paperwork.

"Not in the past hour." She looked up. "How are you doing? Going to see Freed?"

Laxus nodded. "I'm alright."

"How's your finger?" she asked, smirking.

"Fine," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "I barely burned it."

"I still say you should leave the cooking to me."

"Fine, then. Can you make Freed's lunch?"

She smiled. "On it. Go visit with him. Shoo."

Chuckling, Laxus strode to the infirmary.

At the door, he paused and listened to the sound of Freed's breathing. Deep and jerky inhales were followed by small huffs of breath, and when Laxus looked around the door jamb, Freed was staring straight up at the ceiling while his chest rose and feel in irregular rhythm.

"Freed?" Laxus asked, entering swiftly and on the alert, but with trepidation, too, afraid to startle Freed. He was so fragile these days. So quick to turn away and tell Laxus he wanted to sleep.

Freed's breathing slowed a little, and he looked hesitantly over at Laxus, expression veiled and cautious.

"H-Hello."

"How are you?" Laxus asked, taking the chair by Freed's bedside. "Need anything?"

"No. Thank you."

Freed's answers to questions were so short. It was normal now, but Laxus still hated how closed-off Freed had become: how little information he shared about how he was doing. He had seemed to get better at first, but now a solid wall had come down. Laxus didn't know how to get through.

"You're looking better," Laxus commented, nodding at Freed's pink cheeks, the fact that he was shirtless and not shivering.

"I'm…feeling healthier," Freed said, brow drawing down as if this fact confused him. He stared out the window for several long minutes while Laxus watched him, but Freed's expression didn't change.

"Pain getting better, then?" Laxus asked softly.

Freed inhaled but didn't answer.

Laxus was about ready to get up and leave. This was infuriating: how was he supposed to communicate with the brick wall that Freed had become? Weren't they friends?

"I'm sorry I'm not doing a very good job taking care of you, Laxus," Freed said finally. "I'll make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?"

"The team needs to take more breaks. Goof off more. Spend time here at home. I'm sorry I've been pushing us so hard. That's my fault. I don't know why I do that. It won't happen again."

Sighing, Laxus tipped his head into his hands and stared at the floor.

Couldn't they have a normal conversation anymore?

* * *

Mira's laughter woke him. Freed's eyes flashed open and his heart pounded into overdrive, straining his senses and making him hiss—and suppress himself as fast as he could. But nobody was in the room, and Mira's laughter came again from out in the hall, ringing and melodic. Nobody came into the infirmary.

Blinking at the ceiling, Freed sighed. She was such a good human being. More joyful, more attractive, more of everything someone would want, than he was.

Why had he thought he could do this? Screw 'trying' and 'fighting': he wasn't getting better and everything just hurt all the time.

_I don't want it to hurt anymore._

He just wanted to go numb.

* * *

Freed's internal wounds continued to bleed intermittently and Porlyusica worriedly put him on a gentle regimen of exercises.

"Keep blood flowing so things heal. And so fluid will drain."

Freed's expression was tight and focused. Laxus looked worried these days too, in a less-controlled way, like an loose spark. Mira worried their whole team was coming ungrounded.

As Freed withdrew—tellingly silent when he was in a lot of pain; only making conversation about things other than his wellbeing or emotions—the Raijinshuu grew quiet too. And desperate. Bickslow told him gossip and tales of others' missions; Ever brought him books and sat next to him reading; and Laxus helped him with his exercises and got what conversation he could out of Freed. Sometimes that conversation came close to what it used to be, and Mira would pass by the infirmary to hear discussions of magic or mundanities, but more and more it was sad and awkward and strange.

Everyone wondered when Freed's healing would show true progress, and why it was taking so long.

"Laxus," Mira asked one day. "Has he said anything?"

He turned to stare at her. "Guess."

"You're not going to push him to tell you what has him so freaked out? This is unnatural. Something is very, very wrong—"

"Freed hardly fucking talks to me," Laxus growled. "I know something's wrong. If I could fix it, I fucking would have already, so get off my back."

"I'm sorry." Mira held up her hands. "You're right. I didn't mean to blame you. We're all worried."

Laxus let out a deep sigh and rubbed his face. If Freed didn't get better soon, Laxus would get ill too.

"You could be right. It may be my fault," Laxus said. "I didn't catch…whatever it is that happened to him. Didn't notice before it was too late, clearly. I'm sorry I snapped."

Mira jolted.

"What?" Laxus looked up in concern.

"You've never apologized to me before."

"I…haven't?" He scratched his neck and then—blushed. "I guess Freed's not the only prat."

"Laxus." She rolled her eyes. "You got over your prat phase. I know that."

He grunted.

"Also, I forgive you. Thank you for apologizing."

After a moment of frozen animation, Laxus looked away and grumbled. The flush in his face turned blotchy, his head ducked too low for her to see his eyes.

Mira wondered if he'd ever been verbally forgiven before.

That shot her heart full of a new kind of worry. Laxus had protected all of them; he'd fought for the guild; he'd risked his life. He ought to know his sins were a thing of the past. Slate wiped clean long ago. There was no one who held his long-ago battle against him anymore.

If he didn't know that…he was carrying a weight that no longer existed.

Shit. He was totally going to get sick.


	5. Unnecessary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed doesn't think Laxus is good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize I posted ch.3 twice! It's fixed now.

Ever practically hurtled into Laxus when he arrived at the guild one morning.

"He's not doing it again," she stuttered. "It's all over again."

"What?"

"He didn't eat breakfast. I thought it was nausea, but he pushed away the okayu I brought him too. I think he's avoiding food again."

Growling, Laxus followed her to the infirmary, where Freed sat up against the headboard staring out the window. One hand rested on his chest, and the morning light glancing off his hair made him look like something from a painting. Waxen and unreal.

"How are you?" Laxus asked breezily, ignoring the way Freed jumped, and spinning the chair around to straddle it. "Do you need the strong stuff for the pain again? You know it's not bad to need them."

"No, no, I'm alright."

"I heard you didn't eat."

"Just felt a little strange, that's all. I'll be okay in a little while."

Freed's voice, low and heart-calming, just gave the situation further absurdity.

Knowing pushing would be futile, Laxus joined in on Freed and Ever's conversation about Magnolia's mayoral election. It fascinated Laxus how Freed's face slid through expressions, as natural as ever before, and yet certain faces were distinctly absent. Enthusiasm. Consternation. Joy.

Any emotion that was truly real had been wiped clean.

"You want to do your stretches?" Laxus asked.

"I already did them," Freed said.

"Freed!" Ever shouted, while Laxus felt a spike of jealousy in his chest. Freed didn't need him. Didn't want him. "Baka, you know that's dangerous. What if you fell?"

"Then you'd come and help me up," Freed said. "It's not like you three don't check on me every hour. At least."

"You could hurt yourself," Laxus rumbled. "Worse than you have."

"How much worse can it get?" Freed asked dryly, meeting his eyes.

Laxus's mouth opened and closed.

"Anyway, I'm alright, Ever. I survived my _strenuous_ rounds of raising my arms and walking back and forth across the room."

Normally, Freed cracking wise would earn him a dope-slap from Evergreen. But at his sarcastic tone, Ever looked like she might actually cry.

Laxus did not understand this man.

"You're not fucking alright," he snorted. "You got stabbed. Now let us take care of you."

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Freed…" Laxus tilted his forehead against the chair back. "I swear—"

"I'm fine, Laxus."

When Laxus looked up, Freed's gaze was hard. Then he put on a fake smile.

"How is your day going?"

"It'd be a lot fucking better if you weren't being a prick," Laxus retorted. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry yet."

"Bullshit."

"You can believe me or not. It doesn't change the facts."

"Freed—"

"If this is all you want to talk about, you might as well leave," Freed said coolly. "We both know this discussion gets us nowhere."

"Fuck you," Laxus snapped, tossing the chair away from himself as he stood. "Enjoy your boredom."

"I shall," Freed responded primly, but Laxus was already heading to the door.

_Go rot in a hole, you stubborn bastard. When you finally wake up and realize you have friends, you can come find me._

In the hall, Ever's voice carried to Laxus's ears as he huffed and leaned against the wall to calm down.

"That was…mean, Freed."

"Look, I'm sorry." Freed's sigh was heavy. "It doesn't matter anyway. Laxus doesn't _feel_ things."

A pause, then Ever's grumpy voice: "I can't argue with that. But what, you're trying to _make_ him feel things by acting like an asshole?"

"I'm acting how I feel. Which never affects Laxus. He'll be completely fucking fine."

"You're being an asshole to _everyone!_" Ever's voice rose to a screech.

"I'm sorry, Ever. I'm sorry," Freed said, appeasing. "I…didn't mean that earlier. I'm just tired of insincerity. But I know you weren't being insincere."

"I wasn't." A sniff. "Damn you, when you're sick in bed I can't get mad at you."

They both chuckled.

Laxus wanted to hit someone.

That he didn't feel things—that others' feelings didn't affect him—

A stone fell in Laxus's lungs. This was the real reason why he was mad. It was like Freed didn't see him as _human._ After everything.

Laxus couldn't make up for what he'd done. He couldn't _be better._

Storming out the back door, he stomped into the woods behind the guild.

He'd been seeking to earn Freed's forgiveness in little ways ever since he returned to Fairy Tail, though Freed's recent obsession with the stalker woman had forestalled that. But now, it was almost like they were sliding backward, back into the time when Freed was furious with him and had every right to be so. Everything Laxus had done would always stand between them. As if, to Freed, Laxus could never get rid of the monstrous side of himself.

The fears and doubts about his own ability to change crashed in. Apparently, Freed was the only person who still saw the old Laxus. And Freed was the one person he wished did not.

* * *

Mid-afternoon, Freed found himself alone in the infirmary. He spent several long minutes listening for sounds in the hallway outside before quickly pulling aside the blankets and sliding his feet toward the floor.

Quickly was perhaps not the right word: as quick as possible would be more accurate. Moving did hurt considerably, not that he was telling anyone this, and some days he would find strange pressure on his lungs that made it hard to breathe.

Standing finally, Freed lowered himself to the floor and cautiously, achingly, attempted a push-up.

It was painful, and it was _difficult._ He'd lost strength, and the pain and its accompanying weariness made everything three times harder than it ought to be.

But despite the sharp jabs around his ribcage, he kept going.

He managed sixteen before his arms couldn't take it anymore and he lay down on the floor, face against the wood. Down here, the world smelled of cedar, and Freed breathed it in, let this other existence inhabit him. Being inside himself. Nothing felt real. His brain could not compute it.

After he caught his breath, he moved on to other difficult tasks like crunches and squats, working until he was sweating and then working some more. These things shouldn't be difficult. He wanted to get stronger. He had decided that the sooner he stopped needing anyone, the sooner he could get away from Laxus.

Secretly, he wanted to fall into the oblivion of sleep.

At last, wheezing and shaking, he climbed back into the cot and stretched out, sleep overtaking him as his heart pounded its fists against his chest.

* * *

Freed dreamed about a mission.

He dreamed they were attacked, that Laxus came under fire. Desperate, Freed threw himself into the way. Pain shattered his chest and he awoke enough to realize he had been dreaming.

Then he slept again.

He dreamed they were looking for a certain place, wandering through a town which became a garden which became a labyrinthine forest.

Laxus kept trying to walk ahead, and Freed had to run to get between him and danger. It hurt, and he couldn't breathe because he was running so much, but he would do it: he would do his job. Until Laxus walked away from him toward someone else, his romantic partner, a person Freed refused to look at, and Freed couldn't put himself between Laxus and this person…

* * *

Laxus didn't visit the infirmary the next day, or the next. Freed had expected him to visit despite Freed's cold words; had hoped and assumed that Laxus cared about him enough to push past Freed's walls.

His heart broke.

Because if Laxus didn't think resolving things was worth it…

Freed hadn't even known he was testing Laxus until the test came back negative.

In the quiet silence, alone in the room, Freed watched the sky through the window and thought of all the reasons why he shouldn't cry about this.

He'd spent long enough beating himself up. At this point, it was childish and selfish. It was time for him to leave the infirmary.

He set to following every word from Porlyusica religiously, and perhaps some part of him hoped that Laxus would come by again and see him being dutiful.

But Laxus didn't visit; and maybe that was a good thing.

* * *

At the end of the week, Freed finally went home. In all that time, Laxus had not visited, and Freed heard from Ever that he'd taken a mission by himself.

Freed continued healing at home.

Laxus was back again by the time Freed made his way to the guild to announce to his teammates he was going away for a bit.

"I'd like to visit my folks. It's been a long time."

"Are you sure you're healthy enough?" Ever asked.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

"So why are you asking permission?"

"I'm not asking permission. I'm letting you know, so that if you need me for anything, we can clear that up now. Do you have enough money this month?"

Ever looked at Bickslow, who shook his head.

"Do we need to take a mission?" Freed asked.

"Maybe?" Bickslow scratched his neck.

"We'll be okay without you, Freed," Laxus said. "Please, go enjoy your vacation. We'll survive."

He offered Freed a smile that curdled Freed's stomach. So that was how it was, was it? Unnecessary.

"Alright," he said, trying to keep his mouth from twisting at the word. "I'll see you later."


	6. Unforgettable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed visits his moms and unexpectedly meets up with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Fraxus is endgame.

Freed stood in the doorway of his parents' abode.

"Okaasan?"

"Oh, Freed."

His mother Satomi smiled and held out her hands, Freed kissing her cheek. She smelled like home, like ginger and turmeric, like she always had. She wasn't the one who birthed him, but she was the one who comforted him when he was little. Her hands were strong when they gripped his, and her smile had no secrets. Accepting. For the first time in a long time, Freed could take off his ideals and simply be.

"Tadaima," he exhaled.

"Okaeri." She beckoned. "Let me make tea."

* * *

Freed trod a street lined with shops, past the busy market where a younger version of him had clung to Satomi-kaasan's belt for fear of getting separated, around a corner where an old oak grew out of the pavement that he'd climbed many times. He had no destination in mind, simply the joy of being out and surrounded by happy tickles of memory.

"Freed," someone called. "Freed Justine."

He turned.

A man with long blonde hair strode up to him, grinning and amiable. It took Freed a moment to place him. Then—

"Rufus?"

"You do remember," Rufus chuckled as they shook hands.

"It's been years."

"It has. Where have you been? Your hometown has missed you."

Then, as Freed put his hand down, Rufus's eyes caught on his guildmark.

"Ah. Fairy Tail," he said, eyebrows questioning, his smile somewhere between awe and curiosity.

"Yes." Freed rubbed his hand in embarrassed pride. "For nearly a decade now. What about you? Are you an archivist, or did those dreams change?"

"Yes and no," Rufus laughed. He motioned across the street. "Let me get you a coffee. No, I insist—it's not every day your childhood friend comes back in town."

"Maybe we should have a parade," Freed teased.

"Oo, I didn't think of that, sadly. You'll have to settle for me."

"That's not 'settling;' that's winning," Freed smiled, following him into the café.

* * *

Freed's old bed, his old room—now a guest room, but still his.

At first, this room had seemed like a haven, yet another place to cuddle away from all things Laxus and the question of what Freed would do when he returned to Magnolia. But now, staring at the ceiling, Freed could hear nothing _but_ those questions, chasing around and around his head. Sleep evaded him, and his chest began to feel tight again, pressure beating up from his wound, making breathing painful.

When he slipped into the kitchen, he was surprised to find it neither dark nor empty.

"Rumi-kaasan," he said.

She looked up from her perusal of the pantry.

Taller than Satomi, she had straight black hair falling to her waist over her worn yukata, toes poking out of pink bunny slippers.

"Satomi's," she said, winking at him when he raised his eyebrows at her feet. Rumi was precise and tidy, but had no aesthetic bones in her body; Satomi was the one who softened the house with potted bamboo and linen curtains at the windows. Rumi was all practicality, a trait Freed had gotten from her in full—she used to joke it was the only likeness he had to her despite her nine months of work building him.

Another thing they had between them was an uncanny ability to read the other. Rumi took one look at him up and down, then turned to the icebox.

"You need milk," she said.

Soon they were both seated at the table, each with a cup—Rumi had grabbed a bottle of ramune for herself. ("You still drink that stuff?" Freed asked. She replied, "At my age, it's important to have fun with your life.")

"So what's wrong? It seems that something has broken your heart," she said.

Freed opened his mouth and let it pour out.

"It seems to me," she said after a while, "that you're going to need time. Which is probably not what you want to hear. Stay here for however long you need."

* * *

The next day, with no plans, he sat out in the garden doodling with his magic and making new spells. It had been a long time since he'd done this: just let magic and creativity flow through him, problem-solving and following his imagination.

After a while, he set to putting up protective jutsu shiki around the house—silly he'd never done it before, really. Staring at his usual spell for blocking others' magic, he spent a long time tweaking it and testing how durable it was.

He would have to see if this would strengthen the defenses around Laxus's flat.

* * *

Breakfast with Rufus turned into a midmorning walk around town.

"You don't have work?" Freed asked as they passed through the old park, trees listless in the breeze.

"You…don't remember, do you?" Rufus asked, with a shy smile. "Were you at the x791 Games?"

"Yes."

Freed stopped walking as Rufus raised his eyebrows, hands clasped behind his back. He had a lean frame, but he was strong, and Freed had discovered Rufus was a mage when the man casually used his magic to cool his tea.

"You were in one of the guilds?" Freed asked.

Rufus nodded. "It was the first and only year I participated on my guild's team."

"You participated? But…" Freed squinted. "Wait, that Rufus? Sabertooth? But you had a different last name."

Smiling and blushing, Rufus nodded them into walking again.

"I work under a pseudonym, yes. That and the mask keeps a modicum of privacy."

"What for? Sorry, I'm curious: I don't mean that as an accusation."

"I didn't take it as one," Rufus assured him. "My family was targeted early on in my magical career. My sister got badly injured. My guild didn't give a damn, I felt weak and useless, and the whole thing put me on edge. So I left that guild, took the pseudonym, and joined Sabertooth where I knew I could hone my strength."

"That part worked. I remember your fights. It's impressive magic—and very you."

When Freed peeked over at him and smiled, Rufus looked down to watch the path, flushed.

"Thank you. It just sort of happened. I had gotten very good at my job in the archive and then…suddenly I was using magic to do it. A little startling, to be honest."

"That sounds like a story," Freed said. "A juicy one. Do tell."

Rufus laughed. "I nearly gave the director a heart attack when it happened…"

* * *

Every night, Freed fell asleep to images of Laxus. His heart hurt and sometimes in the seeping darkness, it seemed like tomorrow would never come. He would be stuck here, aching, forever.

But eventually he would fall asleep. Every day he felt a little more rested, a little more healthy. Rumi-kaasan was right, as always: he could do this, it would just take time.

* * *

And some self-care.

Waking with a hard-on was sometimes something he enjoyed, and other times an annoyance. When he sat up one morning and felt the rub of his boxers, strange yearning shot through his chest. Fuck. Was it okay to stroke off when he couldn't get his mind off someone he couldn't have? And beyond that—beyond the urges and uncontrolled events like these, he longed for touch. He wanted to be held. He wanted to kiss someone.

He wanted to be wanted. Was it so much to ask?


	7. Unequal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus tells Mira a little of what's going on. She finds it worrying on many levels.

Mira passed Laxus hunched over a table and stopped on her way to the kitchen.

"What are you writing?"

"Hm?" Laxus jerked up, arm covering the paper. "Just ideas. Thinking things through."

She didn't have to ask if it were about Freed.

With heavy dishes in her arms, she continued to the back, but as soon as she set them down, she returned. Laxus looked surprised when she sat beside him. She noticed he'd hidden the heavily-written-on sheet of paper and had a blank one in front of him now.

"How are you doing?" she asked, looking him in the eye.

Laxus looked back at her—really made eye contact, which relieved her. She was tired of mumbled responses.

"Freed's gone home to see his moms," Laxus said, stretching. "He didn't have a time frame; I think he intends to finish rehabilitating there, getting his strength back where he can't 'humiliate' himself in front of us. Three of us have just been dawdling and taking odd jobs. We're still kind of off from whatever it is that's going on in his head."

"Funny how one person's mood can affect an entire group."

Laxus shrugged. "Freed's the nucleus. He won't admit it, but he's the heart to our team. I think it's because the rest of us can't untangle our own issues without his help."

When he chuckled, Mira knew it was meant as a joke, but she didn't laugh. His eyes were distressed beneath the smile.

"What kind of issues?" she asked.

"I don't know." He shrugged again. "He makes us better people, I guess."

"Is that how you feel?" She leaned forward to meet his gaze, which had trailed down to the tabletop. "That he's the reason you're a good person?"

"I mean, isn't he?" Laxus laughed awkwardly, scratching his head, face going strange colors. The mix of emotions was chaotic, like deep grief.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me about it?" she prompted.

When he blinked and jerked a little, she put a steadying hand on his arm. That one move always calmed people, she'd found. Kept them from leaving and grounded them enough that they were able to finally let go of their walls. When she pulled her hand back, she could already see him searching out the threads of thought.

Breathing deep, Laxus contracted and relaxed as if practicing the words.

"Freed and I still haven't sorted everything out between us. I think he still blames me for… I mean, I broke his trust. Deeply."

"When you told him to kill me?" Mira asked.

"Y…Yeah." Laxus glanced at her. "You know I'm sorry."

"Yes, I do, and you know I don't care anymore. You're different."

Laxus let out a rough laugh. "Freed would not agree with you."

Frowning, Mira bit her lip. She would've said quite the opposite. Freed seemed the first person to forgive Laxus, the one who was willing to free him from guilt and let him fly away to grow into someone new. Freed had always understood Laxus better than anyone else. He'd believed in Laxus harder and longer than anyone else.

"What happened exactly?" she asked.

"He…used to let me do a lot more. Of missions, taking care of the team, stupid mundane stuff—all of it. When I came back, that changed. He butts in, tries to do everything now, it seems like. Like he doesn't trust me to do it."

"Maybe he's just trying to be helpful."

"Stepping between me and an opponent is the _opposite_ of helpful, and he knows that. I feel like he's trying to make all the decisions for me. That's not fair, and it's not healthy, and it's not what friends do." Laxus chortled—small, wry. "You know what he said when I first came back to the guild? 'I know you'll do better.' He looked encouraging, for sure, and I took it as a positive thing, but it's still an ultimatum of sorts. One I needed. But I don't think he believes that anymore."

"Laxus, that didn't mean he didn't believe in you. Maybe he was saying it in his own way. Maybe he thought he was telling you that he had faith in you. It's Freed: his diction is always a little different from other people."

"His diction is broader than other people's," Laxus snorted. "He tries _not_ to be misunderstood. Hard to imagine him _assuming_ his words would have a certain connotation beyond their face value."

"But Freed's about as good at talking about his emotions as you are," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Freed's way better about talking out his emotions than anyone else I know," Laxus said seriously. "Anyway. He said that, so I've been working to be that 'better.' Proving it through action. So that's what I did. And have done."

"And?"

He shrugged. "That's where things lie."

Mira closed her eyes and tried to rein in her exasperation.

"Laxus," she said clearly, "when will it ever be enough?"

"I figure when something big happens and I make the opposite choice from what I would have back then. Still working on that one."

"What are you talking about? You almost died protecting Magnolia from Tartaros."

He winced. "I wasn't successful, if you'll recall."

"Partially successful. They predicted that your actions kept the casualties to one-tenth what they would've been."

"Yeah, I got lucky." He smiled. "Not going to complain about that."

"And you carried the particles around for a year. Don't argue: you and Freed talked about it right in front of me one day. You're welcome for keeping your secret, by the way. Figured you'd shrivel up in embarrassment at being 'weak,' even though it was the result of a selfless act."

"Thank you," he said wryly. "It was a good bit of penance. Constantly falling apart. Hurt like fucking hell. I complained about it to the team every other second. So I've still got some ways to go in personal growth, clearly."

"Laxus! You can't be _perfect. _Everyone whines. Everyone has selfish days. You can't stop being human. Laxus, seeking an unattainable or unidentified goal is unhealthy. It's… Frankly it can be a form of self-harm."

He looked at her aghast. "No. I take care of myself, okay? Which is more than I can say for Freed."

Then he jolted.

"Maybe that's why," he said. "Why he treats me like I'm not up to standard. Freed is selfless to the point where it's a bad thing. If he thinks that's virtue…I am not going to meet that."

Pressing her fingers to her temples, Mira leaned forward on the table.

"Why does it matter so much what Freed thinks?"

"Um, because I hurt him? He's the main person I need to make it up to."

"Freed is? Really?"

"Certainly seems so."

"Honestly, I think you're dealing with a regular case of insecurity. No, be quiet. Other opinions matter to you too much. I realize your old problem was a lack of empathy, but you can care about other people without caring what they think about you.

"And it's funny, because you weren't always like this. I wonder," she said, tilting her head, "if you were so focused on what you perceived as Freed not forgiving you that you grew insecure over time?"

"It's not just Freed."

"Oh, really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Seems to me like he's the one whose opinion you've been trying to garner. You know what being selfless would look like?"

He squinted at her.

"Helping me wash the enormous pile of dishes that's been gathering in the kitchen."

Laxus laughed. "I suppose if I say no that makes me a mean bastard."

"No, it just means you were a little bit selfish at one time in one situation."

"Well, my conscience would probably give me the side-eye if I didn't help you after all that, so sure. Lead the way."

As he followed her around the counter and into the back, she glanced back.

"If you're so frustrated that Freed isn't letting you do things, then do the unexpected. If you _really_ feel the need to prove yourself. Something to think on."

* * *

It concerned Mira, though. That Laxus cared so much. That Freed also cared so much that he would keep stepping in. If Freed were just _around,_ she'd tell him baldly that he was making Laxus think Freed didn't believe in him and to quit it already.


	8. Unaddressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed receives a package without a return address. And then something even bigger...

"If you keep walking me home, I'm going to think you have no faith in my abilities as a mage," Freed teased as he and Rufus approached the front gate. Satomi and Rumi were visible deeper in the garden, Satomi with dirt on her hands and a smile on her wide face, while Rumi was frowning at the plants like they were a logic puzzle. Satomi laughed and patted her arm.

"I like your parents," Rufus said fondly. Rumi noticed them and waved, Rufus waving back.

He turned to Freed.

"I believe quite firmly in your capabilities. Maybe I just like walking you home."

"Walking is nice," Freed agreed with a happy sigh.

"So is good company," Rufus smiled.

Freed smiled back. "It is. Doing this every day has been good for me."

"Finally helping with that broken heart you refuse to talk about?" Rufus said, leaning in with a suggestive smile.

"I never said anything about a—a broken heart," Freed snorted.

"Exactly."

Freed rolled his eyes. "I got stabbed in the chest with an _actual_ knife, Rufus."

"Doubly painful, I suppose," Rufus replied. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Alright. But why don't I come to you this time?"

"Fine," Rufus laughed. "I'd enjoy that."

Rufus leaned in for a hug and Freed, at first a bit startled, reciprocated. That felt nice, too.

Once they'd parted, Freed came up the path and looked down at the patch of earth his mothers were staring at.

"Petunias?"

"Something cheerful now that the weather is warmer," Rumi said. "By the way, there's a package for you."

"For me?"

"No return address," Satomi added.

"Odd." Frowning, he headed for the house.

"Maybe you've got a secret lover," Satomi chuckled, quietly but loud enough he could still hear.

"Tomi!" Rumi exclaimed.

"Maybe I'll start sending _you_ secret packages."

"I'll send you one first," Rumi retorted. Freed heard an exaggerated, sloppy kiss.

He found the box inside. It was indeed unaddressed. Opening it, he found bottles of amazake, a packet of genmaicha, and some candies. A note said, _Hope you're feeling better._ He didn't recognize the writing.

"So is it like Satomi thinks?" Rumi asked, coming in behind him and going to the sink.

"It's a…care package," he said, boggled. "No idea who from."

"Huh." She looked over the items. "It feels good when you know people are thinking of you."

"It does," he said as she squeezed his shoulder.

* * *

When Freed strolled up to Rufus's family home the next afternoon, the man himself was sitting lotus-style on the porch with a book in his lap. One might've thought he was just reading, but Freed felt the buzz in the air.

"Practicing?" he asked.

Rufus jumped.

"Gods, I didn't hear you."

"Sorry," Freed said, though he couldn't help grinning. "What are you working on?"

"Mm. Just absorbing some new ideas. You should let me see your magic sometime."

"And let you steal it from me forever? You wound me," Freed said dramatically.

"Oh, hah. I can learn your spells without erasing them from your memory."

"Of course you can; I was just teasing. A mage of your caliber I trust completely."

Rufus beamed. "For that compliment, I insist on paying for tea this afternoon."

* * *

"Levy," Laxus said.

She turned so fast she almost fell out of her seat.

"How can you large people be so quiet?" she protested.

"Wasn't intentional."

"Of course not," she said in exasperation, as if this were something she dealt with often. "What is it you wanted?"

"Ah, more of a question…" Laxus glanced at the book in front of her.

By the end, Gajeel had joined them and, after the requisite teasing, had some helpful thoughts.

* * *

"Freed?"

Freed shook himself and turned to Rufus with a smile. "Sorry."

"What's wrong?" Rufus set tea in front of him, then took the seat across.

"Just got distracted. What were we talking about?"

"What's so distracting?" Rufus asked, looking in the direction Freed had been. The sunshine was warm on the café patio, and people walked happily along the street.

"No, just…passerby." Freed waved a hand vaguely. "Reminded me of a friend of mine."

For a brief second, he'd been so sure it was Laxus, too. Suddenly he'd felt hopeful, and then just as suddenly his heart dropped again. The swooping in his stomach made it hard to school his expression.

"Ah." Rufus looked down at his drink, swirling it. "The person who broke your heart."

"I really hate that phrase."

"Don't we all." Rufus swirled his cup again before looking up and finding Freed's eyes. "Tell me about—her, him, them?"

"Why on earth would you want to hear about that?" Freed asked a little faintly. The idea of talking both hurt and relieved him. To go over the pain again—to share it with someone.

Rufus's smile was deep and sincere, and sad too.

"Because it's important to you."

Freed inhaled and sipped his tea. "He was a teammate. It's always a teammate."

* * *

A day or two later as the pair approached the Justines' front gate, Satomi came hurrying out to meet them.

"Okaerinasai." She kissed them each on the cheek, both Freed and Rufus startled by her suddenness. "Freed darling, a _very_ interesting thing happened while you were gone."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You should come inside and see."

He glanced at Rufus, who merely raised his eyebrows.

"Lead the way."

The thing was a scroll—heavily embossed, flourished, and wax-sealed.

"A young woman brought it," Rumi said, looking up from her newspaper as Satomi led them in. "All dressed up in very official-looking colors."

"What?" Freed picked it up carefully—almost afraid his hands would shake. This couldn't be anything bad, surely: he hadn't done anything wrong. On the other hand, the Magic Council would have no other reason to write him.

He shot a dubious look at Rufus, but Rufus looked excited. He nudged Freed. "Open it."

Slitting the seal, it took Freed a minute reading the rather long text to recognize what it was.

"Well, the good news is that I'm not being arrested for anything," he laughed, confused. "It appears…one of my spells was judged original enough to be added to the Council's archives. They're sending someone out."

"Really?!"

Even cool and collected Rumi was crowding around now. Satomi kissed his cheek several times for good measure and exclaimed some more.

"Which spell?" Rufus asked.

"A locking spell."

"The one you showed me?"

"Yes," Freed said, "although the full version is more complicated."

"You said it had two more languages involved," Rufus said with a mischievous grin. Freed couldn't help blushing under the adulation.

"Yes. It looks like that's part of what caught their attention about it."

"Freed." Rumi touched his shoulder. "I'm so proud of you."

"Th-Thanks." Grinning, he bit his lip and looked at the letter again. "The thing I can't understand is how they found out about it. I never sent in an application regarding _any_ of my spells. This asks that I please present any other original work to their agent for assessment as well. I don't…" Freed shook his head at a loss. "I don't understand."

"The rest of us always knew you were smart," Rufus said. When Freed, still blushing, dared to look over, Rufus wore a special smile. "Maybe you'll believe it now too."

"I—I'm not…"

"Celebratory cookies," Rumi declared. "We need celebratory cookies. Oo, or dango. I think we have some anko, too. Is anyone else starving all of a sudden?"

"I could use a little sustenance," Freed laughed.

"Do you need to sit down?" Rufus teased, touching his arm.

Freed let Rufus pull him to a seat at the table, rereading the scroll once more.

"Who would do this?" he asked Rufus. "For me. Who knows my magic and…and would know…"

"Maybe you'll never know," Rufus smiled.

"It's the secret admirer," Satomi said not-so-quietly from the kitchen.

Freed flushed.

* * *

"What's this?" Freed asked.

Rufus led him through to the small back patio. With the last sunlight fading from the sky, a chill had arisen, but a small heater was on and pointed at the nest constructed from zabuton pillows.

"A celebration," Rufus said, motioning Freed to sit down and grabbing a bottle of sake. "You like honjozo-shu, right?"

"I love it." Leaning against the wall of the house, Freed held out the two bowls to keep them from tipping over on the pillows while Rufus poured. "What's it for, this celebration?"

"As if you don't know. Getting your original spell recorded! Who knows—maybe more than one. Inventors get patents; we get recognition from the Magic Council. This is big. And stop looking at me like that," Rufus chuckled. "You don't have to be so humble that you don't enjoy the beautiful moments."

"Alright," Freed laughed. "I concede. Besides, this is nice."

Rufus settled beside him and they looked out at the fading horizon as they drank. Companionable silence reigned for a while, slipping into effortless conversation. Occasionally Rufus would touch Freed's knee, or put his hand over Freed's for a moment—small touches, all comforting and welcome.

Freed couldn't remember the last time it was this easy to spend time with someone. He'd put so much pressure on himself to be and do and hide and conform. Rufus was the first person in a long time who created the space Freed needed to enjoy these moments.

"Freed," Rufus said after a while, "I'm sorry so much shit's been going on for you lately. But I hope this makes it a tiny bit better."

Freed smiled, his head tipped back against the wall to look out at the star-specked blackness.

"It does." Sliding sideways, he leaned his temple on Rufus's shoulder, warmth making him shiver. "Thank you."

* * *

Laxus had just finished pestering Lucy (and by extension the very confused Cana hanging off Lucy's shoulder) for ideas when Levy rushed up.

"Lucy! And Laxus, you'll like this too. Look what made its way into Sorcerer's Weekly?"

Lucy took the paper as they all peered at the open page.

"Freed's getting a spell recorded by the Magic Council?" Lucy looked around. "My gods. That's impressive."

"First person in a number of years," Levy said, grinning at Laxus and Lucy in turn. "That's why Sorcerer's reported on it. You should read the article. Very complimentary of our Freed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have fallen in love with Freed's moms. Oops ;P
> 
> Comments appreciated, lovelies! I love hearing from you.


	9. Undeterred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed kisses someone who isn't Laxus. Hell breaks loose.

Freed received another unsigned package, this time two books he'd been seeking. That, he knew, had to be Evergreen, because she was the person most familiar with Freed's reading habits; on the other hand, anyone could've asked her for a list.

When the Magic Council's agent came, they found two more of Freed's spells worth investigating and potentially adding to the archive. Freed was enlivened by getting to talk magic with someone who was an expert in his field—the woman was Ouno Ayumu, famous in the letter-magic world.

Freed felt extremely proud of himself for managing to hold intelligent conversation with someone who'd written at least half of his favorite linguistic texts.

He and Rufus continued meeting in the afternoons, and Rufus continued to be someone comfortable and relieving to be around. Sometimes, he was even what Freed might call…tender. That, more than anything—being treated as a human being with emotions and value, a person with both strength and weakness—made him feel at home. He didn't want to return to Fairy Tail yet, return to the cold, hard loneliness he'd felt last time he'd been in his guild.

He especially wanted to stay as the pattern of sweet gifts and anonymous honors and encouragements pointed in Rufus's direction. Freed didn't know how to ask, though. The more time they spent with each other, the more intense those times became. It felt as if Freed might snap something delicate and lovely if he asked an obtrusive question like, _are you my anonymous friend who's been making me feel so noticed and loved._

That would be far too clumsy.

Life became both easier and tenser—tense in the exciting way, with that sense that Freed had goals now, directions. Rumi commented one night that he seemed to be doing better and Freed had to admit that he was. Laxus still came to mind often, but it didn't hurt the same way. Not when someone else was consistent, attentive. Willing to be at his side. Laxus wasn't like this. This, _this_ was what Freed had actually been looking for.

One day he met Rufus for an evening walk. Beneath fading sky, they bumped shoulders on the path and laughed often.

"Freed," Rufus said, stopping. They were under a solid, sprawling tree, and alone in the world for all that they could see.

Freed sensed the change in Rufus's posture and stepped close.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's not that. I, um…shall we sit down? It's so pretty here."

Rufus motioned to a bench on the other side of the trunk and Freed followed him.

As they sat, Rufus inhaled. "As we've gotten to know each other again, I've come to quite admire you. I know you've been through a lot and I don't wish to make things heavier for you, but I want you to know…I care. Would you…like to be my boyfriend?"

Freed opened his mouth several times.

"Rufus." He shifted closer. Rufus was staring at him half-hidden behind a curtain of loose hair. "I—I would very much like that."

Rufus exhaled and Freed laughed—a high thing, eager and excited.

"I enjoy whenever I'm with you," Freed murmured, touching Rufus's arm timidly.

Rufus beamed, tucking his hair behind an ear and ducking his chin.

"I like when you smile like that," Freed said. "All shy. Like when we were little."

Snorting, Rufus shook his head as vim returned. "I'm trying to be better about that. It's hard without the mask."

"I'm glad you don't wear it here."

"Not with you. That would be no fun," Rufus grinned. "Hiding emotion is for fools."

"Well-said."

* * *

"I'm bored." Evergreen idly folded the napkin beside her where she'd laid her head down on the table.

"Laxus needs to pick a job for us all to do," Bickslow said, looking hopefully at Laxus.

Laxus raised an eyebrow.

"Why should I pick? You pick. They all sound lame anyway."

"Freed always picks," Bicks said, watching Evergreen one-handedly fold the napkin into a crane. "When's he coming back; anyone know?"

Evergreen and Laxus both shrugged. Bickslow fixed questioning eyes on Laxus until he spoke.

"I haven't spoken to him. I would think soon, though. It's been a month."

"Should be healed," Bickslow agreed.

Ever snorted. Loudly.

"What?" Bicks asked.

"It's a chest wound, idiot," she said without looking up. "They take a while. And who knows when he'll _want_ to come back."

"Oi, Ever, that's mean. What are you trying to say?"

She just shrugged again.

Laxus glowered, then rose.

"Where you off to?" Bicks asked.

"Well, if we're not doing anything, I'm going to go get a drink."

They watched him wander off to the bar and strike up conversation with Mira.

"Think they'll date?" Bicks asked.

Ever was quiet for long enough that he looked over. Her expression was incredulous.

"You're an idiot, Bickslow."

"What?"

"Just pick a job and let's go," she grumbled. "We can leave Grumpy Pants if he's not interested. I need to get off my ass and move."

* * *

"…Magic has its good and bad sides, and so do guilds," Rufus said, head on Freed's shoulder, tucked under his chin. "I like my guildmates, though."

"That's fair."

They were sitting on the edge of the porch, and Freed ran his fingers over the smooth wood. He had so many memories of playing right in this spot, lining rocks up into runic patterns that could make gusts of wind or floating colors in the air. Magic, before he knew what magic was.

"What about you?" Rufus asked, tilting his head to look at Freed.

"Me?" Freed smiled across his mothers' flowers. "I can't imagine my life without magic. There's nothing I'd willingly give it up for. Well, a few people, sure. But you know what I mean."

"There are always those special people." Rufus smiled up at him—a private smile, close and personal. It made Freed's chest settle, because being cared about, being important to someone…

It was something he'd given up on until now.

Rufus moved his head and now they were looking at each other eye-to-eye, Rufus still leaning on him. His mouth was very close. Watching Rufus's face, Freed knew he was quietly asking, seeing if Freed wanted to. He wondered what kissing Rufus would feel like. What kind of emotions it would invoke.

Exhaling, Freed tipped his head and kissed him gently.

* * *

The doors of the guild slammed open. Laxus, who'd been bandaging Mira's hand, whirled around.

"Ever," he said, before Mira could even see what the commotion was.

He dashed toward the doorway where Bickslow was carrying Evergreen in on his back, her small arms dangling on either side of his neck.

"Call Freed," Laxus said to Mirajane over his shoulder. "He needs to know about this."

* * *

They had to disengage hands in order to hold the produce as they wandered the market. Rufus made up for it by constantly bumping shoulders instead. Freed liked the constant casual touch—he didn't even have to initiate usually, because Rufus was always right there, quiet and questioning.

At night, Freed hadn't been able to keep himself from masturbating to thoughts of Laxus; in the darkness, things got muddled and it was hard to say no to fantasies. But it was all part of the process, part of the getting-over. In the daylight, he would see Rufus's smile from all the way down the street and feel warmth glow to life inside him. Every time Rufus took his hand, it stitched him back together. He wasn't broken: he was wanted.

They were midway through the street market when a snapdragon flower came zooming up to Freed's face.

Rufus dropped his parcels and immediately reached for where his sword would be. Freed held up a hand.

"It's for me," he explained, and looked at the flower. "What's your message?"

"There's an urgent message for you here at the house," Rumi's voice issued from the snapdragon. "One of your friends is hurt. It's serious."

Freed stared wide-eyed at the snapdragon as it disintegrated before turning on Rufus in shock.

"Go," Rufus urged. "Let's go!"

Freed broke into a sprint with Rufus right behind him, reaching the end of the market and turning the corner. As Freed dodged to keep from running into a woman, a searing pain exploded in his chest. He tripped to the ground in a tangle of momentum.

When he opened his mouth to vomit out the pain, only spit came. Freed curled further around himself, one hand on the wall, the other clasping his chest.

"Can't…" he coughed as Rufus knelt in front of him.

When he met Rufus's eyes, Rufus's gaze fixed on Freed's chest.

"I think you tore your wound open," Rufus said, putting his palm gently over the spot. Freed saw a flash of red before Rufus covered it. "Impressive, considering the skin was already healed."

"I twisted…"

Rufus nodded. Hand still on Freed's chest, he moved beside him and wrapped the other around Freed's waist.

"Come on. Lean on me as hard as you need."

Straightening up confirmed that yes, the pain was radiating from the same damned spot at the edge of his ribcage. Standing was incredibly searing, muscles spasming and telling him to curl up again, stop opening the wound further.

But he needed to get home.

Rufus hugged tight around Freed's waist and helped him take a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies, thanks for bearing with the pauses between updates. I have been extremely low-energy the past couple months, so writing and editing take much longer than they used to. I'm confident it'll pass, but in the meantime, thank you for your sweet comments and pms about the characters (I find it just as suspenseful, even though I know what'll happen) and for your eternal patience. ^_^


	10. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed and Mirajane have an important, and slightly judgmental, conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments—speaking to all you sweetnesses across platforms. And Selienne, thank you—I am NOT being like Freed, I promise :) Self-care is happening.

"It's Evergreen," Mira said, her worried face scrunched on the mobile lacrima. "Some sort of dark-matter magic went through her body and she's feverish and unconscious."

"How did it happen?" Freed asked, wincing as Rufus wiped at his chest. Rumi passed Rufus a clean cloth and Rufus, kneeling by Freed's chair, continued dabbing the trails of blood. Freed finished unbuttoning his shirt and took the wet cloth himself, hissing as he patted his wound.

"I don't know how it happened," Mira said. "She and Bickslow were on a job east of here. He carried her back."

"Where was Laxus?" Freed asked. Laxus. Businesslike voice. Efficient.

"He was here at the guild, helping me revamp the cold storage in the basement."

"Ah."

Laxus had been with Mira. Freed stared down at the marks on his chest.

"I'll be on my way as soon as I can," he said. "It might be…a little bit."

"Freed, are you hurt?" Mira asked, peering closer at her screen.

"Just aggravated old injuries," he winced. "I'll be fine."

When the call finished, he turned to Rufus, who had collected ingredients from the kitchen and was measuring them into an unknown concoction.

"I'm sorry," Freed said.

"Don't be." Rufus stopped what he was doing so he could put both hands on Freed's arm. "You should leave today. If your teammate is doing that poorly, you ought to be there."

"I'm not sure about…" Freed waved at his chest and made a face. It was his own damn fault.

"Ah, but I do," Rufus said, finishing his concoction and stirring it. "I happen to know a nice little potion for stopping bleeding."

"Really?" Freed looked at the murky thing Rufus handed him.

"Yes. I suspect you're bleeding internally, too. Please drink it."

"I _know_ he's bleeding internally," Rumi said, returning from outside with a pile of sour-smelling rags in her hands.

"I'm sorry," Freed murmured at her. He'd thrown up on the porch.

"There was blood in the mess," Rumi said as she went to the sink. "Not a lot, but still. What on earth did you do, Freed?"

"Ran around a corner," Freed chuckled weakly. "Guess I'm still not healed. It's been two months."

"With something this serious, it usually takes six months or more to be back at full strength," Rufus said. "And you're not exactly flexible right now with where that wound is. You really shouldn't twist too much."

As Freed drank the potion, Rufus rubbed his shoulders softly.

"I'm sorry this happened," Rufus murmured, kissing the top of Freed's head.

Freed sighed. "Me too."

* * *

Freed stepped off the train gingerly, coat thrown over his shoulders. He'd opted not to bring anything with him—he had clothes at his apartment, and carrying a bag would be difficult. He held both arms close to his body to remind himself not to move them too much.

Treading the last block to the guild, he stopped to struggle his jacket onto his arms and button it over his bandages. When he walked in the doors, a few people nodded hello, but nobody tried to accost him when he headed straight to the back.

"Ever?" he asked, pushing open the infirmary door.

Laxus looked up. He sat next to a bed where Evergreen lay, ice on her forehead.

"It's a bad fever?" Freed asked, coming to her other side.

"Pretty bad. Not as intense as it could be, but it hasn't broken since Bicks brought her back a day and a half ago."

Freed nodded and touched her hand.

"What happened? I didn't get all the details."

When Laxus sighed, Freed looked up, and it wasn't as painful as he expected. Freed had a boyfriend now, and he didn't need approval or attention or anything else from Laxus.

Looking tired, Laxus told him about the job.

"Bickslow's exhausted," Laxus finished. "I sent him to my place to sleep, since it's not far."

"Smart."

They both looked down at Ever.

"Well," Freed said, "tell me how I can help."

* * *

Laxus startled out of a doze when Freed knocked something over on the counter nearby. Rousing himself, he watched Freed flip through a book and take a bottle from a cabinet.

"Looking for something?" Laxus asked with a yawn, eyes still on Freed's back.

"I think I've got everything, thank you. Although we need to restock the agrimony."

"I'll let Mira know."

Freed hummed.

He moved efficiently, knowingly. He was very smart and Laxus was glad he was here. Of anyone, Freed was most likely to untangle the curse on her.

When he'd finished, Freed brought the bowl over and used the mix like ink to write in the air. The runes dissipated as smoke floating down to Ever's body.

"Should help for now," Freed said.

He met Laxus's gaze and held it. It struck Laxus how clear-eyed that gaze was. Like the walls that existed between them when Freed had left were gone completely.

"Thank you for coming," Laxus said.

"Of course," Freed said. "It's Ever. I'm always here for you three; you know that."

Laxus nodded and looked back down at their teammate.

Confidence, he thought. That was what it was: Freed had gained confidence around him. He no longer looked at Laxus like there were a hundred unsaid things. Instead, he looked calm…and complete.

_I'm glad,_ Laxus thought, and didn't know why his chest hurt.

* * *

Freed watched from the doorway as Laxus touched Evergreen's wrist and counted her pulse. Laxus watched the hanging clock for fifteen seconds, then squeezed her hand, rose, and went to the medicines Freed had left prepared on the counter.

"Wait," Freed said, stepping in the room. "Green label, not the yellow. Pulse still too fast?"

"Yeah."

"Definitely green. I need to counteract the lobelia in the other."

"Thank you for doing this," Laxus said as he went through the motions, using the mixture like ink in the runes Freed had shown him. He gave Freed a tired but grateful smile. "With Porlyusica not in. I know it's not your traditional magic."

"I grew up around plants. It's easy for me to combine things like this with runes."

"That's…impressive."

Freed smiled and they both turned back to Ever.

Freed soaked in the presence of the room. The soft _okayness_ of it. Of being here. With him.

Laxus shifted in his chair, back cracking.

"Do you want to go home and rest?" Freed offered.

"Thanks, but no. I guess… Ever's biggest fear is people leaving her. So I wanna stay, in case it makes a difference."

Freed's heart warmed. "I didn't know that about her. She usually only admits to fearing spiders."

"Yeah, she told me a while ago. We were tipsy and admitting our worst fears, et cetera."

They both chuckled and sighed. The quiet was comfortable.

"Well, if you plan on staying, I'll get us something to eat. Any preference?"

"Anything sounds good. And Freed? Thanks."

Freed looked back from the doorway. "Of course."

He stepped out, but turned back to see Laxus taking Ever's hand and rubbing over the tendons and loose muscles. The focus in Laxus's eyes spoke volumes. It felt right, and warm, and… It felt like he and Laxus were partners again. Taking care of people together.

Freed realized: he still loved Laxus.

Yes, there was Rufus now, and things were different, Freed was moving on. He might not be able to have Laxus, but he would never stop seeing Laxus as the single best person he knew.

* * *

"What's that?" Mira asked, entering the kitchen and finding Freed at the stove.

"Lunch. I thought we ought to have something warm on this cold day. Bicks just arrived, so I'm making more."

"You're good at looking after them."

"Of course," he said without looking up.

"So," Mira said, leaning back against the opposite counter. She'd been aching for the chance to grill him about this. "You have a boyfriend?"

Freed started. "How did you hear about that?"

"Your mother mentioned you were out at the market with him."

"Okaasan." Freed shook his head with a chuckle.

"So," Mira smiled. "Tell me about him."

"Rufus Lore from Sabertooth," Freed said. Though his back was to her, she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "I knew him in childhood."

"Damn, you go away for a month and come back with a boyfriend," she chuckled.

It wasn't a forced laugh: Mira could make anything sound sincere because she truly wanted her friends to be happy. Even if she didn't think this was the thing that would do it for them.

Watching his movements closely, she couldn't detect anything uncertain in his posture. He stood tall—actually, taller than before.

"So I take it he makes you feel warm and mushy inside?" she prodded.

Freed glanced over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue. "You love romance, don't you?"

"How did you know?"

He snorted in good humor.

"He makes me feel special," Freed said, and Mira raised her eyebrows. She hadn't expected an actual reply; Freed was tight-lipped about intimate emotions. "Like I'm important."

"You _are_ important." She reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Thanks." He shot her a smile. "Rufus would agree with you."

"Lots of people would." She tilted her head. "So what do you do together? How'd you ask him out?"

"It started with daily tea," Freed said, voice warm, "and getting my troubles out to someone. That turned into spending more and more time together. He's the one who asked me out."

"Yeah? And?"

She could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"On a romantic late-night walk, you spy," he snorted.

"That's not a very exciting story."

"A few days before that, he set up his porch as a nest of pillows and we watched the sunset together over sake."

"_That_ makes a better story," she said.

He smirked at her over his shoulder.

"Well? What's your favorite thing about him?" she asked.

"You're doing an awful lot of prodding."

"Well, you're giving me very little information. And you know I'm going to make you tell me everything."

"Fine." He removed the pan from the stove and hunted for dishes. "I guess I like the way he cares. He's very attentive, seems to notice every detail. He's always had a damn good memory. It's nice to discover I'm the thing he wants to remember."

"Mm."

Mira watched him plate the food. _He makes me feel… He's the one… He cares; he notices; getting my troubles out._

"So you like that he likes you?" she asked quietly.

Freed stopped in the act of putting dirty dishes in the sink and looked at her, eyes hard. "Wouldn't anyone?"

She didn't answer, and Freed continued washing cookware.

Statements of someone enjoying being loved. It wouldn't concern her if it went both ways: that Rufus was special to him, that Freed enjoyed making him feel loved…

Instead, all she felt was imbalance and sadness.

After a long silence, he spoke again, voice clipped.

"What about your dating life, Mira?"

Mira took a hard breath.

"I'm still nursing my wounds," she said.

He looked over in surprise. "What?"

"Last August," she said, "I started dating someone I was head-over-heels for. I thought they were the same way about me. They certainly acted like I was special, like they cared. Until a someone else became single and…suddenly they stopped paying as much attention. Didn't have time for me. Didn't engage in conversation; argued with me about petty things…

"But they still claimed they wanted to date, every time I tried to address what was happening. I knew—some part of me knew—I was just the fill-in; they didn't like me; we ought to break up. But they'd argue that no, that wasn't true, they cared about me. We let it drag on for a while, and it hurt all the worse when we broke up because of that. I'm still getting over it."

She turned a hard, sad look on him—she couldn't help it, hearing about Rufus, feeling all this rise to the surface again. It _hurt_ to be that person. To find out that the happiness you'd perceived was a lie. You thought you were special, and in a single instant, discovered you were second-rate.

And if Freed Justine did that to someone else, she'd kick his ass.

"I'm so sorry, Mira," Freed said, and she could tell it was heartfelt. He'd stopped doing things, towel limp in his hands as he looked at her. "I had no idea. It wasn't someone I know, was it?"

"It doesn't matter," she sighed heavily. "At least it's someone outside the guild so I don't have to see them much."

"It still hurts. Whether you're around them or not, it hurts," Freed said. The care in his face was bringing forgiveness like the waxing tide.

He was still Freed. He would never change from the person who was just, and honor-bound, and good.

"I…misheard; I thought you were dating someone," he said. "You deserve to be cared for properly."

Suddenly, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her. Swallowing, Mira moved her arms around his waist, sighing into his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said as he pulled away. "I wish they'd broken it off early instead of dragging it out. Then at least…I don't know."

"They're a jackass for lying to you and themselves—for using you, even if it wasn't their original intent. That's awful."

"Yeah. Who did you think I was dating?"

Freed cleared his throat. "Not important."

"Freed," she said as he picked up the pair of lunches. "You need to forgive Laxus."

Freed almost dropped the plates.

"What?" he asked, eyes round. "About what? I don't blame him for… Where is this coming from?"

"About when you fought for him. Against me and the others. He still thinks you hold it against him."

"What?" Freed's brow scrunched incredulously. Putting down the plates he crossed his arms and leaned on the counter. "Why on earth would he think that?"

"I guess because you never said you forgave him."

"Didn't I? And do I have to say it when it's been three years and I've treated him normally since then?"

"But you haven't," Mira said. "Not in his eyes, and not in mine either. You're…overprotective."

"What does that have to do with me supposedly being angry at him?"

"He thinks you don't trust him to do things right."

"He told you this?" Freed asked in surprise. "That's…he's never mentioned anything about it."

"I think he was more focused on _showing_ you he's gotten better."

"Of course he's gotten better! He was never—what happened back then, I know it was horrible, but it was never about violence or… He used to be so angry. And he didn't manage it well, didn't know how. We weren't good friends to him. We let him go wild, followed along with our own hurts and anger riding on his, none of us dealing with our shit because Laxus's attitude was an excuse not to.

"But when he thought he'd actually lose Master, he sort of realized. While he was away from the guild, he went to face whom he was actually mad at. I don't think anyone knows this," Freed sighed, rubbing his face, "but he went and saw Ivan while he was out of Fairy Tail. Settled quite a number of things between the two of them. Things that had defined Laxus's life for a long time, I think.

"When he came back, he was so much better. He'd dealt with his childhood, and was figuring out how to handle when new things angered him. He figured out that he cared, deeply, and that was why he always felt so affronted. He learned to care about the guild without taking everything personally. He—he practically died for a year to save the rest of us."

"Then why do you keep doing things for him?"

"Are you kidding?" Freed exclaimed. "Because he deserves a break. Because it's our job to take care of him. While he's busy being the hero we always knew he was, we watch his back and give him safety. That's how our team works. _Of course_ I'm going to," Freed pressed a hand to his midriff, "step between him and a knife. He's…my hero, too."

"Freed…"

Mira stared at him with sadness and happiness and frustration.

Freed's confusion made it clear he had no idea why she felt this way.

"Let me get this straight," she said. "You've been doing things for him in order to take care of him, while he's been trying to _keep_ you from doing things in order to care for you and earn your forgiveness."

"I guess," Freed said in a miserable voice. "It's awful when you say it like that. I never meant for him to— I just wanted to keep him from having to worry about being goddamn murdered. I have not always been successful at keeping him safe. I wanted him to be carefree. He's never carefree," Freed said softly.

"Neither are you," Mira snorted.

"No, I'm not." Freed peeked up at her. "He really thinks I've blamed him, all this time?"

"Yes. Which is why he got so mad at you for that," she said, nodding at his stomach. "He thinks he doesn't deserve it."

Freed put a protective hand over his abdomen, as though to push his respect for Laxus directly through the scar.

"You re-hurt yourself, didn't you?" she asked.

"It's not bad," Freed muttered. "Rufus gave me something to stop the bleeding."

"Bleeding? Freed!"

"Not that bad!" he protested. "Please. Ever's the one who needs our help now."

Nodding, she sighed. Freed picked up the plates again. In the doorway, he paused. "Mira, thank you for telling me."

"Of course."

Maybe he'd get a clue.

* * *

It was all a misunderstanding. All this time, Freed thought his actions would speak louder than his words ever could. Turned out words were important for clarification.

It meant that all this time…they could've been fine if they'd just talked.

And Laxus wasn't dating Mira. With all of this cleared up…he and Laxus might have a chance.

Although, it wasn't that Laxus liked Freed, necessarily. Just didn't hate him. So, they could be friends.

Could, if Freed could handle being around him without being totally in love with him and cheating on Rufus emotionally. That was a big if.


	11. Untangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed decides what he wants. It's going to hurt.

The next day, Freed sat with Bickslow in quiet discussion when Ever finally opened her eyes.

"There you are, you idiot," she croaked at Freed.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "I'm back."

"I'm gonna guess you're the reason I feel better."

"Maybe a little," he said, squeezing her hand.

"I'm sorry," Bickslow spoke up from her other side. "That was totally my bad."

"Nah, I'll shield you any day, dumbass. Just let's not go against someone with your same magic without more backup next time, 'kay?"

"Yeah," Bicks chortled. "Sounds like a good idea."

"I can't believe you two went on an S-class mission." Freed rolled his eyes.

"I was bored!" Ever exclaimed, breaking off to cough. "God, my head aches. Gimme something for pain, thank you very much."

Bicks went to the cabinet while Freed squeezed her hand again.

"Having come back, I'm afraid I need to go home again. I sort of left in a hurry."

"Surely your moms don't outrank us in importance."

"Har har. I didn't get to say goodbye to Satomi-kaasan at all, and she'll come all the way here to hound me if I don't return and give her at least one more hug. And there's someone else I want to spend some time with before I come back home long-term."

"Ugh, fine. Just hurry back, or I'll kick your ass."

"It might take you a while to get back in ass-kicking shape."

"So be back before then," she said. Shifting up in the bed, she patted his hand then waved him off. "Shoo. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back and we can do actual interesting work."

"Alright," he laughed.

* * *

Laxus entered the guild just as Freed was heading toward the doors.

"Hey." Freed smiled. Still so confident. It was attractive. "Ever is awake. I need to take off for a few days, but I'll be back soon. I just wanted to let you know…I forgive you."

Laxus stared.

"B-Beg your pardon?"

"I forgave you long ago," Freed said. He gave Laxus a sad smile and touched his arm. "Please don't ever think I don't trust you."

"Oh?" Laxus blinked.

Freed's touch moved away and Laxus couldn't hide his little jolt forward. An unsettlingly shrewd look passed through Freed's eyes before Freed nodded to himself and pushed open the doors.

"Soon," he said before he disappeared.

Laxus felt exhilarated and exhausted.

* * *

"Aha, perfect!" Bickslow exclaimed as soon as Laxus set one foot in the infirmary. Bickslow raised his eyebrows conspiratorially. "Did you two hear…Freed is dating."

Laxus almost tripped.

"_What?!"_ Ever exclaimed.

Relying on her shock and outrage to vent for him, Laxus found his way to a chair—smelling of the recently-departed Freed—and tried to mentally shake himself.

"Yeah," Bicks said, wiggling in delight. "Mira said when she initially called, Rumi-san picked up because Freed was out with his boyfriend."

Laxus touched the spot on his arm where Freed's hand had so recently been.

_I am so confused right now._

Perhaps forgiveness meant more to him than it did to Freed.

* * *

Freed stepped off the train and into Rufus's embrace.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Freed laughed.

"Of course I'm going to meet you here," Rufus said, running a hand through Freed's hair. "How's your teammate? And your chest?"

"Ever woke up," Freed sighed, smiling. "And my chest feels about the same as always."

"It's not jumping excitedly because I'm here?" Rufus said with a wink. "Come on, your mothers are waiting for you. Satomi-san almost fumed when she heard you'd left without hugging her."

"As expected," Freed chortled. Taking Rufus's outstretched hand, he followed him out of the station.

* * *

Rufus kindly left before suppertime. When Freed followed him to the porch to kiss him goodbye, Rufus explained he didn't want to intrude when Satomi clearly wanted to take care of her son. The son who, she had emphasized multiple times, started bleeding while she was absent—as if this were a grave sin.

"Tomorrow," Rufus said, lips pressing gently against Freed's.

"Yes. Why don't I take you to dinner? I have to return to my guild full-time soon and I figure you probably do too, but we can at least…you know."

Rufus smiled warmly. "I like that."

* * *

Lying in bed, a poultice taped over the scab on his chest (Satomi was quite good with herbs), Freed stared at the dark ceiling and thought about Rufus's kiss.

Freed liked kissing. He liked being kissed. He liked the thrill of holding hands with someone and knowing it was because you had something special with them. Because _you_ were something special.

Words and phrases of Mira's kept tumbling through his mind.

He'd hurried back here, but his heart was still at Fairy Tail. It beat hot and quick among the streets of Magnolia, where a not-dating and not-at-all-mad-at-him Laxus trod. Laxus's consternation, his smile, his kindness—they were all large monuments on the field of Freed's mind. Thinking about any moment from the last few days with Laxus made Freed break into an unstoppable smile.

He was still, despite his efforts, very much in love with Laxus.

If it were a choice between Rufus's kisses and Laxus's friendly smile, Freed knew he ought to choose the former. But it was not what an honest Freed would pick.

Laxus's vulnerable expression when Freed had touched him on the way out played over and over. So potent.

Maybe it meant something and maybe it meant nothing. Maybe he and Laxus never had a hope of dating, just of being friends, and maybe if Freed broke things off with Rufus, he would be throwing away a perfectly good relationship with a wonderful person. His pragmatic side said to hold onto what he had, because it was fun and healthy, and pursuing Laxus was nothing but uncertainty.

Freed's pragmatism usually led his decisions, but he remembered the pain in Mira's, about being unloved. About trying to be with someone whose emotions didn't equal hers. Freed could pretend that Rufus's emotions were like his own, curious and fun-loving, but he knew that was a lie. Rufus's sincerity was visible in all his little gestures. Rufus care deeply.

In return, Freed had done very few gestures of his own. He'd been too preoccupied enjoying it all.

Rufus deserved better than that.

* * *

When Freed woke the next morning, he felt happy and clear-headed. The person he wanted was Laxus. He was dating Rufus, but much as he liked him, Rufus wasn't whom he wanted.

These were facts, and it was his job to act accordingly.

Coming into the kitchen, he almost ran Rumi-kaasan over.

"How's the poultice?" she asked as she righted her skinny frame and grabbed him a bowl. "You still like simple okayu, right?"

"My chest feels surprisingly better. And yes, your okayu is always good," he smiled.

"Hah. It's the only thing I can cook."

She handed him a bowl and they sat across from each other at the table.

"So why do you look so chipper? Slash consternated?"

"Consternated?" Freed laughed, confused. "I suppose. I…realized quite suddenly that Rufus likes me far more than I like him and that is unfair. I don't want to hurt him, though."

"He does like you," Rumi agreed, stretching her bony arms. "An awful lot. Satomi kept pointing it out to me, but I got the feeling you didn't realize. Should I have told you? I figured I should keep my nose out of it."

"No, no, this is my mistake," Freed sighed. "It's my own blindness. It's hard when what you want hurts other people."

"What you want is your hulking teammate," Rumi snorted.

Freed blushed. "What I wanted was to feel loved. What I didn't acknowledge was how unfair that is when I'm still in love with someone else."

"Sometimes those relationships can help you get over someone," Rumi mused. "Sometimes you fall deeply in love thanks to someone being there while the hurt inside you heals. Satomi and I started dating less than a week after her asshole boyfriend dumped her. I was so into her I was impatient, and she was so desperate to feel worth something that she didn't have any defenses when I asked her out.

"But you know, that ended up working out. She worked through those emotions with me, because she's open and honest and good at communicating. And through that, my crush on her became a more mature version where I acknowledged her faults but still thought she was the best woman I'd ever met. And thanks to that, you happened," she smiled. "So I got the two best things in my life out of it.

"All this is to say: you didn't necessarily make a mistake saying yes to Rufus. It could've turned out. Yes, it was a risky and unwise thing to do, but you were trying so hard to move on. He seemed to offer a way to do so. In that mental state, you didn't see the pitfalls."

"You're being uncharacteristically encouraging."

"Well, I assume with how determined you look this morning, you're going to break up with him. Judging by the way he looks at you, he's not going to take that well. You'll probably feel like shit for letting him down and hurting him. Maybe you _should_ feel a little like shit.

"But love, that's just life. We hurt each other even when we don't intend to. The best we can do in life is seek happiness and try not to hurt others. Seeking and trying are not the same as finding and succeeding. Life is risky. I of all people should know that," she finished with a sigh, sipping her tea.

"Yes, you would," he said softly. "Thank you for saying that. And for what it's worth, I'm supremely grateful you've taken chances in your life. Both for the sake of my existence, and for my having such a good childhood with some incredible parents."

The smile Rumi gave him was thick and crooked.

"Freed Justine, if you keep talking like that to your mother, she's going to shed tears, and you know I hate shedding tears."

He laughed, bright and happy, and took a freeing breath.

"How about a hug to soften it?" he teased.

"That's Satomi's thing," she said, making a face. "I'd rather roughhouse you like when you were little. Except at this point, you'd definitely win and I'd probably break a bone."

"I'd rather my darlings not both get injured at the same time," Satomi announced, coming into the kitchen in her raggedy bunny slippers. "Freed, don't break Rumi-kaasan. I don't want to put you on time-out."

"I promise to be good, Okaasan."

"Don't threaten him with time-out," Rumi said. "He'll just practice magic in the corner like when he was little. You have to pull out the big guns: threaten to cut his hair."

"Goddess, please, no," Freed said, gripping his ponytail dramatically. "If you do that, I won't look like my beautiful mother anymore."

Rumi's smile twisted up again. "Goddammit, Freed. I told you not to make me emotional."

Satomi came over and kissed Rumi's head. "There, there. Happy-crying is good for you." Satomi smirked at Freed. "On the other hand, she cried plenty giving birth to you. You don't have to make it worse."

"Since when was it a crime to love my parents?"

"This is why he's the best child we have," Rumi said. "He says all the right things."

"I'm the _only_ child you have."

"Details," Rumi sniffed.


	12. Unwon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed's self-esteem takes a hit from painful words when he confronts Rufus. He returns to his team, where things with Laxus are warming up. They just need a nudge in the romantic direction...
> 
> _Summary of where things stand thus far: _
> 
> _After getting injured on Laxus's behalf, things between Freed and Laxus have been all kinds of tense and guilt-wracked. Freed finally went home to visit his mothers and clear his head, and ended up...with a boyfriend. Who isn't Laxus. But nothing, even the sweet attentions of Rufus Lore, can get Laxus out of his head. When Evergreen almost dies and Freed quickly returns to Magnolia, he and Laxus manage to clear things up. Now all that remains are their secret crushes on each other. And the fact that Freed has traumatized Laxus from being vulnerable with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I finally got this done. ^_^ More in the endnote.

As soon as Freed finished, the despondent hurt in Rufus's eyes overwhelmed him. Freed was glad he hadn't been looking up as he spoke.

"But I _like_…" Rufus stammered. "I like us."

"I know."

"I don't want to break up."

Freed exhaled. "I wish it were different."

Rufus's expression was half-pleading, half-glare.

"You can't at least try?"

"Rufus, I'm…" Freed rubbed his forehead. "I thought I was more over the person I was into before. And it turns out I'm not, and that's unfair to you, and so I can't…I can't keep doing this to you."

"If you were still in love with someone else," Rufus sneered, "you should never have said yes. You led me on."

"I'm sorry," Freed said desperately. "It wasn't on purpose."

Rufus stood, tossing his napkin on the table.

"I hope," he said, "you can be more faithful to the next person you go out with."

Turning, he stepped smartly away before Freed could say a word.

Freed put his head in his hands and let out a long, emotional breath.

* * *

"I take it it's done," Rumi-kaasan stated when Freed came in the door.

"Yes."

Freed sank down beside her on the tatami.

From Rumi's other side, Satomi reached over to pat Freed's arm, then got up and headed toward the kitchen.

"Okaasan," Freed said suddenly. "What's the secret to being loyal to a partner?"

Rumi blinked.

"Take care of them; respect; listen; try. It depends in every situation what that looks like."

"What's to keep someone from being a serial dater, then?"

"Choice?" Rumi said.

"Is that what he said?" Satomi asked, returning with three mugs. "That boy."

"He was hurting, Tomi," Rumi said.

"Still." Satomi sat primly. "Since when have you ever been a serial dater, Freed? Since when have you been disloyal to anyone? You are reliable in your commitments and faithful to those you love. _We all make mistakes._ That doesn't mean you'll never be faithful to a partner ever again in your life."

"Mm." Looking into his mug, Freed sipped his drink. "Well, thank you."

"Hmph!"

"Satomi," Rumi admonished, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"I'm leaving for Magnolia tomorrow," Freed said.

"We figured that was your plan," Satomi said. "I'm glad you stayed for so long. We love when you visit."

"Next time bring your team, if you're not too busy being injured," Rumi said, which got her an elbow from Satomi. "I like that Bickslow fellow. Wry humor."

"I'll tell them," Freed chuckled.

When he went to bed, his heart still felt heavy in corners, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. That light was called family.

* * *

_I'm going home,_ Freed thought, and watched pastures roll by under the train window.

It was possible to love many things. Multiple people. So that when one hurt you, you still found hope in the others.

Going to his mothers had been the right plan. Not to run away, but to become braver.

* * *

"We heard you have a boyfriend," Evergreen said the minute Freed entered the infirmary. He mentally sighed. "Who is he? I need to go interview him and threaten him to be good to you."

"He was very good to me," Freed said. "I do not have a boyfriend currently, however. I broke up with him before coming here."

"What? Why?"

"Because it was disingenuous of me to date him in the first place. Our emotions for one another were unequal, and that's unfair. So I did the right thing and broke it off."

"Ouch," Bicks said.

Freed shrugged. It didn't hurt exactly. He didn't want to think about Rufus's cutting remarks. Mostly he wanted to tell the truth and move on to other topics.

Laxus looked up at Freed. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Like I said, my emotions were not the type to base a relationship on."

"I have no idea what that means, but you seem happy," Laxus said.

"I'm just glad you're back," Ever grumbled. "My head still hurts like crazy. Migraines stabbing through my eyeballs. I need you to work more anti-curse magic. And while you're up, can you get me some food? Thanks."

"Sure," Freed laughed. "Be right back."

When he returned, Bickslow scooted over to give him a seat. This put Freed across from Laxus.

The confidence that was so easy the week before had fled. Now Freed's gut was a mass of jittering nerves.

"I had a good time with my moms," he said, trying to find a conversation that would drive away the skittish feeling. "I should visit them more often. Satomi-kaasan invited all of you along. She says she misses you and wants you to come by more often so she can make sure you're eating enough."

At this, he winked at Evergreen.

"Oh goddess, your mother," Ever sighed. "I'm not too skinny! If anyone's thin, it's Rumi-san."

"Rumi-san is just built like that," Freed defended.

"Where do you think Freed got it from?" Laxus added.

"True," Ever said.

"Hey!" Freed interjected. "I am not bird-thin. I've got muscle, thank you."

"So does Rumi-san," Laxus pointed out. "She out-arm-wrestled Bickslow, remember?"

Bickslow chuckled at Freed's irked expression and poked his ribs.

"I thought you were always proud of looking like Rumi-san," he said. "Birdie."

"Hmph." Freed slapped away Bickslow's next poke, then had to skitter aside as Bickslow found a ticklish spot. "Hey! Don't make me…ow…"

Freed put a hand over his chest.

The other three immediately looked serious.

"Are you still injured?" Ever asked.

"It's not bad," Freed said quickly. "I just shouldn't do things like jerk away from mischievous fingers."

"Been dealing with lots of those lately, have you?" Bickslow smirked. "Mischievous fingers. Mischievous boyfriends."

"Not like—no. Shut up."

Bickslow giggled.

"Anyway," Freed said, slightly pink. "Ever, I take it you can't work yet?"

"She can," Laxus broke in. "She just can't strain herself."

Freed raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How do we keep her from straining herself on the kinds of jobs we take?"

"You're the smart one," Laxus shrugged. "You figure it out."

Freed rolled his eyes, humor bubbling behind his sternum. "I'm back for less than an hour and you already want me to do all the hard stuff."

"Of course," Laxus grinned. "That's why we like you on our team."

* * *

They waited another day for Ever's sake, so that she could rest and get better—although the fact that she and Freed stayed up past midnight talking and fell asleep in a tangled puddle mightn't have completely helped.

Freed emptied his heart and told her everything—minus details with Laxus—and it was worth it for the sense of peace, even if he did have shadows under his eyes the next day.

Ever discharged herself from the infirmary ("if I fall unconscious again, you three can just take turns carrying me") and insisted the others relieve her boredom with a job.

"A _good_ job," she yelled after Laxus as he strode to the request board.

"If it's got scholarship, you'll be occupied but not strained," Freed said.

"It's got to be intriguing scholarship."

He rolled his eyes and took off after Laxus. When Freed reached him, he touched Laxus's arm and read the flyer in his hands: a job testing the properties of a collection of magical objects someone inherited.

"Still explosive without being the run-around-dying type," Laxus said, looking over for Freed's approval.

"She's not dying," Freed grunted. "Just liable to pass out. That seems like the perfect job to keep her sitting still for more than five minutes."

"She's getting as bad as Bickslow," Laxus chuckled.

"Nobody is as bad as Bickslow. Nobody else has to put up with so much spiritual noise invading their attention at all hours. And…she has a crush," Freed said.

Laxus raised his eyebrows in interest.

"Told me last night," Freed yawned, stretching. "Been making her interest plain, but the woman in question is…hesitant due to recent bad experiences."

"Oh? I don't suppose Ever named this woman?"

"No, but I know who it is."

Laxus started. "You do?"

"Yes, because I am observant. But you have to observe it for yourself," he teased, punching Laxus's arm lightly. Laxus blushed.

"C'mon," Laxus wheedled, following Freed to the bar where Freed grabbed Mira's record book to mark their job as taken.

"You're smart," Freed smiled. "I believe in you."

* * *

"Sit your ass in that chair," Bickslow said, pointing an accusing finger at Ever. "I will bring things to you."

"I can walk, asshole. I can fucking carry things, too. I'm not delicate."

"Except when you want to be," Laxus smirked.

Ever rounded on him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

While Laxus chortled, Bickslow brought over a box and set it at Ever's feet.

"Sit. Work," he said. "Or you won't get your cut, and then you won't meet rent, and then you'll get evicted and you'll have to live with _me._"

"Oh, gods. Fine," Ever grunted, thumping into the chair and opening the box.

Bickslow beamed before returning to the pile.

"Laxus," Freed called from deeper in the maze. "Can you come here?"

The collection took up the entire room, cramped with boxes that overflowed with the strangest items. Laxus had so far inspected a ruby marked with weird runes (set aside for Freed), noodley pompoms that seemed to have no purpose and no magic whatsoever, and a chair that put a hunger spell on whoever sat in it.

"Keeps you at the table, I suppose," he'd joked to Bickslow.

"You're sure that's what it does?"

"From what I can see of the magic, yeah. But we can put you in it and see."

Bickslow paled. "No thank you. I've had bad experiences with magical chairs."

When Freed called out, Bickslow perked up. "What'd you find?"

Laxus stepped past Bickslow (in some stupidly jealous hurry that he didn't want to think about because _immature_) and followed Freed's voice around a towering corner.

"It's heavy," Freed said when he saw Laxus. "I can't seem to shift it."

The package he indicated was smaller than Laxus expected for how hard Freed was breathing. It was a sphere slightly bigger than his head, wrapped in brown paper. The boxes beneath it were collapsing under the weight, and Laxus could see something spindly and delicate-looking poking out of one.

"Let me," Laxus said, but Freed bent down beside him and shifted his fingers under the object from the other side.

They heaved together—and the thing didn't move.

"Goddamn," Laxus said, getting on his knees to inspect the bottom of it. "Some kind of sticking magic?"

"No," Freed sighed, wiping his forehead. From this close, the tiredness on his face was more pronounced. Laxus wondered if it were more than one night of missed sleep. "I'm wondering if there's gravity magic and it's misfiring."

"Whoa, really?"

When Freed held his hand over it, Laxus felt the thrum of magic and a grey-blue circle appeared between his hand and the sphere.

"That's not like anything I've seen before," Laxus admitted.

"Nor I," Freed said. "But the center rune denotes natural forces, and the aura colors are similar to modified elemental magic. The outer line appears degraded, though."

Laxus slipped his hands beneath the boxes instead, and attempted lifting again. This time the pile shifted a tiny bit before re-settling.

"That was…unexpected," Freed said.

"We need something to pry with, for leverage. Hold on."

Laxus shifted back through the maze and found a magic-less metal pole Bickslow had pulled out earlier.

Hearing Freed grunt, he jogged back through the piles.

Freed had still had lit up the source magic circle, but had withdrawn several more layers from it, stacked above it in a pyramid. Hands under the boxes as Laxus had done, Freed was straining to tip the stack over, whispering and adding to the runes as he strained.

"Freed!" Laxus growled. "Scoot over—"

Freed did not relinquish his grip, and with a final surge, the stack tipped over and crashed across the floor.

"Fuck—" The bitten-off yelp drew Laxus's attention away from the disarray to where Freed was rubbing one hand with the other.

"Let me," Laxus said and took Freed's hand, rubbing his thumb over the palm and finding it free of injury.

Freed's hand jerked in his, not quite pulling away, and Laxus immediately backed up.

"Sorry," he coughed. "Are you okay?"

Freed had a hand pressed to his chest, breathing hard.

"Not quite ready for that kind of strain, apparently," Freed laughed weakly.

"Wait for me next time," Laxus said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to do every goddamn thing yourself."

"I got excited," Freed admitted.

Glancing over, Laxus saw the childlike need in Freed's eyes and relented. Nodding at the object, he asked, "What do you think?"

"The magic is definitely degrading with age—just from touch, honestly; it's falling apart. Who knows how old it is. I augmented with a little reverse spin on the polarity and…"

Freed motioned happily at the scattered mess.

"Shall we?" he asked, pointing at the ball, whose wrapping was now ripped. "The honor is yours."

Laxus carefully pulled away the rest of the paper, stuck to the ball with residual magic. There was an almost electric pull toward it, and something that made his skin crawl, too. His magic buzzed inside him.

Freed laughed.

"Lightning mage," Freed chuckled. "You're reacting to the electro-magnetic field around it. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Pretty weird," Laxus said, pulling his hand away quickly. "I wonder what its purpose is."

"Several hundred years ago things like this were in heavy use in prisons. Well, not prisons exactly. Torture," Freed explained. "The directionality of the gravity means you can make it heavy in whichever direction and to whatever degree you like. Crushing body parts, holding a person underwater, suspending a person upside-down, that sort of thing. It was a common way of sinking bodies, too. Stick one of these on them…no need to put them in a bag of weighted rocks or anything like that."

"That's…incredibly creepy."

"I agree," Freed said. "This one must've been used a lot, for the magic to be wearing off so soon. I'd guess it's no more than two hundred years old at the most."

Laxus shook his head, turning away from the torture device that had apparently seen lots of action.

"Freed, why did you join a guild?"

Freed blinked. "What?"

"You could've been a professor. An anthropologist. All kinds of things. You're smart enough, and you always know loads more about scholarly shit like this than any normal wizard would."

"I read a lot," Freed said with a shrug.

"I know that. You're still incredibly smart."

Freed blushed. Laxus secretly found that he liked it. And he wasn't sure that was okay.

"I guess I prefer working with the living," Freed said. He smiled up at Laxus. "Academia is competitive; lonely. Thanks to working for a guild, I've made the kind of friends who I'll have forever. People I'd die for."

Laxus had a flashback to a knife and blood—

"And people who will die for you," he added. "Come on. Let's see how much of this stuff you broke with your little stunt."

Freed stuck out his tongue, but Laxus could see that his eyes were thoughtful.

Freed had offered forgiveness, had cleared things, had even apologized. But Laxus wasn't sure if Freed understood how far Laxus would go for him.

* * *

Nor was it just because Freed had almost died for him. Debts and their past together had nothing to do with it. This was the simple, age-old feeling that had led people to protect and prize one another for millennia.

That was why. That was what Freed didn't get. Never understood.

* * *

Despite the size of the place, with four people working together, they finished by suppertime. Laxus had a sneaking suspicion that Freed had done half the work, but that didn't seem to bother Freed at all. If anything, he had the glow in his eyes of intellectual stimulation. Like a cat with a new toy.

"Shall we eat in town?" Laxus asked. "Or head back first."

"I'm starving," Bickslow said.

"You're always starving," Ever pointed out. Freed reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of fruit which he tossed to an eager Bickslow.

"We should train home first," Freed said. "So Laxus doesn't throw up."

Laxus groaned.

"Hey, it's less than an hour, and you're on an empty stomach, so it won't be as bad," Freed soothed. "I can even put you to sleep if you like."

"I thought that magic drained you?"

"It does, but I don't expect to need my magic power much for the rest of today." Freed smiled.

"Alright," Laxus said. "As long as you're sure."

* * *

As Laxus's eyes closed under the influence of Freed's runes, he could see Freed tip back his head and lean his head against Ever, who had already claimed his shoulder as a pillow. Blinking his eyes open with what seemed like an effort, Laxus startled when Freed caught him staring, gave Laxus a simple smile, and motioned in the air with his hand.

Laxus fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dealing with health issues for some time now, and everything just became too much. My creativity was nowhere to be found because every day was just about trying to get through the day and do the basic things like eating and peeing and sleeping....because even those things hurt. I'm still not doing well, but I really really wanted to get back into this story, so for the past month or so I've worked on it in drips and drabs as I've had the energy. Thank you SO MUCH for your patience and your super kind messages and comments. I read them all and it has lifted my spirits during this hard time in my life. You all are wonderful. Now...let's do another chapter!


	13. Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laxus finally gets to take care of Freed for a change. Finally! And then Laxus finally says It. _Those_ words. Too bad Freed doesn't hear them.

As they exited the train, Ever leaned on Bickslow's arm. She normally didn't admit to that much weakness, but she was clearly exhausted despite the fact that they'd kept her sitting in a chair and frequently resting. Laxus consoled himself with the fact that if they'd stayed at the guild, Ever would've found a way to re-injure herself. She did strange and dangerous things when she was bored. Or in love.

"You should go home, Ever," Freed called from beside Laxus. "You need to sleep."

"I need to eat," Ever retorted with a yawn. "I don't have any food at home."

"I'm not cooking for you," Freed said, swaying a little himself—Laxus put out an arm just in case. "I'm afraid I'm going straight to bed."

"Well, _I_ feel fine," Bickslow said. "I'll cook. Laxus, you want to come?"

Laxus opened his mouth to formulate a reply, weaving around the turnstiles.

Someone coming the opposite way clipped Laxus's shoulder and rebounded off him into Freed, shouldering Freed hard. He shouted an apology as he passed, while Freed stumbled—and encountered a turnstile with a _crack_, metal driving into his sternum.

He went down like a stone.

Bickslow cried out. Laxus was already sliding to his knees, grabbing Freed's head off the ground. Tired eyes blinked and Laxus sighed in relief that he was conscious, but Freed twisted out of his hands, curling into a ball around his middle.

He didn't swear. He just breathed, tight and sharp, hands pressed against his chest. Pressed over the old wound.

"Let me see," Laxus murmured, running a comforting hand over the steel-tense muscles of Freed's arm. "Freed, please."

"Be alright," Freed panted in an explosive breath. "Just. Take me home, Laxus. Please."

He looked up with pleading eyes.

Nodding, Laxus lifted him without waiting to be asked, and winced when Freed grunted in his arms.

"I'm alright," Freed breathed, as if to himself. "I…I can…"

"I'm carrying you," Laxus interrupted shortly. "You just focus on yourself."

"Will be alright," Freed panted, but he didn't try to struggle loose. "Just…hurts…"

"Taking him home," Laxus said to the other two. He looked at Bickslow. "You take care of her."

"I don't need—" Ever retorted, still leaning on Bickslow's arm.

"You got it," Bickslow said with a salute. "Best dinner you've ever had coming right up, Ever. I'll cook your favorites."

Outside the station, they parted ways, Bickslow glancing back in worry but focusing on the small sagging body that by this point was all but hanging off him.

Laxus hurried his steps. In his arms, Freed seemed to nod off, or perhaps go into a stupor as he held his chest and breathed through the pain.

"Keys," Laxus said as he trod the last steps to Freed's door.

Freed motioned weakly at his trouser pocket, then said, "I need to stand up."

Laxus set him down carefully and Freed leaned with his head against the door as he pulled his keys out. Suddenly a cough hit him, jolting his whole body, and Laxus grabbed him again. Freed pressed a hand against his mouth, but not before Laxus saw.

"Oh, shit," Freed said weakly. "Blood."

He didn't protest when Laxus took his keys, lifted him again, and brought him inside.

On the sofa, Laxus found a blanket to wrap him in before hurrying to the kitchen to hunt down essentials.

"Freed," he said, kneeling by the sofa. "Let me see."

Freed pulled his hand from his mouth—his chin was speckled with red—and opened his palm. It was just a thin red smear, but coughing up _any_ was too much.

Wiping Freed's hand, he started in on the buttons of Freed's coat.

"No, please," Freed said, curling tighter. "I'm cold."

"I need to check," Laxus said. He had a prescient sense there was more to see. "Here's the blanket."

Letting Laxus pull it higher around his shoulders, Freed trembled under the layers while Laxus undid his coat.

Freed's damn maroon coat hid the color of blood excellently. Probably why he had it in that color in the first place. His white shirt, however, had a bright stain across the chest.

"Shit—that tore you open?" Laxus asked in disbelief. "I thought you healed. It's been nearly two months."

"Magical, remember?" Freed sighed. "The magic festered, and then it was slow to seal up afterward. It kept on…opening up. Anyway, Porlyusica said the safest way was to let the curse run its course and to be careful in the meantime."

"Which you haven't been."

"I tried," Freed defended, but quailed at Laxus's raised eyebrow. "A little."

"Well, apparently _I_ haven't been trying hard enough," Laxus said. "I am now."

* * *

Freed relaxed into the comforting surety of Laxus's voice.

"Alright, Justine. Off." Laxus motioned at Freed's shirt. "Please."

With a sigh, Freed unbuttoned his shirt and let Laxus press a cloth to the area that was bleeding. Déjà vu—just like Rufus. Except this time, the touch made him break out in gooseflesh.

"Let me," Freed stammered, trying to take the cloth from Laxus. Afraid Laxus would notice how sensitive his hands made Freed feel. How Freed shivered every time Laxus touched his skin.

"No," Laxus said without looking up. "You need to let me do things. Sit still."

Reluctantly, Freed sank back into the sofa. He immediately realized how much adrenaline had been wracking his body as his knees trembled unstoppably against Laxus's side.

"I can't help wondering," Laxus said, carefully pressing the cloth into deeper parts of the wound, "if the residual curse magic isn't something directly aimed at keeping the wound open. You seem to rip it back open fairly often."

"Apparently I'm more fragile than I thought, too," Freed admitted. "I…I really am skinnier than I should be, too. I was stressed. I lost weight. I'm weaker." Inhaling, Freed looked to the side. He murmured, "I hate it. Today, tipping over the torture stone…I might've, um, damaged things internally when I did that. I felt things kinda shift… I didn't _expect_ that to happen."

"I know," Laxus said, putting a hand on his arm. "It'll take time, but you'll get back to where you want to be. For now, though, please let yourself be weak, because if you open this gash one more time, I'm pretty sure Porlyusica will murder both you and me."

"If I'm weak, how am I supposed to have your back?"

"You don't," Laxus said. "You let me have yours instead."

"That…doesn't even make sense."

"It makes total sense." Laxus looked sincerely into his eyes. "You just hate the idea of being protected."

"I don't like needing help."

"Well, believe it or not, you're just as worthy of assistance as you think I am."

"I…" Freed stopped. Blushed.

Focused on Freed's wound, Laxus's mouth tipped up in a smirk, like he'd won an argument.

"Where do you keep bandages?" Laxus asked.

Freed directed him to the proper cabinet, staying obediently on the sofa. It was, he admitted, nice to just sit there and let someone else worry about things. Like food. Laxus didn't even ask if he was hungry; after he wrapped Freed's chest, he disappeared into the kitchen, emerging with a heavy-laden plate.

Laxus sat beside him on the sofa and Freed curled up against him while he ate, unapologetic as he sought warmth. Between bleeding and eating, he was starting to get tired: too tired to care about being proper.

He was pleasantly surprised when Laxus responded by wrapping an arm around him.

"What are you doing the rest of the evening?" Freed asked between bites.

"Staying here with you," Laxus said. "Obviously."

"I might be pretty boring."

"You might be injured and need help, too. Also, you have never, in all the years I've known you, been anything approaching boring."

Freed smiled up at him. Smiling back, Laxus squeezed his shoulders and settled more comfortably, tucking Freed into his side.

Freed practically glowed. Setting aside the empty plate, he pressed his head under Laxus's chin.

"How do you feel?" Laxus asked. "Truthfully."

"Truthfully…breathing hurts."

"Can I do anything?"

"I don't think so. I just feel tired. Feeling that low, constant pain all day. It's draining."

Laxus did not chide him. Instead, he said, "Why don't you sleep?"

"I guess. Since you've promised you'll watch my back, I suppose closing my eyes can't hurt," he teased.

He met Laxus's eyes and was happy with the corresponding warmth in Laxus's gaze.

Sliding down the sofa, he put his head on Laxus's leg and curled up, arms around his chest.

"Freed. Dear gods, that can't be comfortable," Laxus said, shifting to try and give Freed more space.

"But…I like it here," Freed said.

"Stop it. C'mere."

Laxus helped him up and led him to his bedroom.

When Freed, eschewing his bloody shirt, crawled between the sheets and lay properly (which did indeed relieve some of the pain), he felt the bed dip, Laxus perching on the edge.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the house. Just whisper."

Freed nodded.

Laxus made to rise, and Freed caught his hand.

"Wait," he said.

Laxus stared at him.

"I don't want you to leave," Freed said wearily. He knew it was vulnerable, and he was too tired to care. He wanted touch. Needed it. "Please. I'm…I'm cold."

Well, it was true.

Laxus nodded. "Be right back."

Freed wasn't sure what he'd expected.

Laxus returned shortly with several more blankets, which he tucked around Freed.

"Anything else?"

Freed paused and shook his head.

"Alright." Laxus gave him a quiet smile and went out, closing the door.

In the silence and the swaddling, Freed breathed in the feel of Laxus's tenderness and fell asleep.

* * *

When Freed arose several hours later, Laxus hurriedly put away the rag in his hand. Laxus figured if he were going to be here, he might as well make himself useful. Cleaning left no room for anxiety.

But Freed would totally freak out if he found Laxus cleaning his space.

"You look a bit more alert," Laxus commented with a smile. He couldn't quite ask the direct question: _how are you. _Even with things getting better between them, he could remember too many times this question turned Freed into a stony wall of silence.

"Thank you," Freed said, with real gratitude that was even a bit forceful, as if trying to show he really meant it. "That really helped."

Laxus nodded.

"Hungry?" Laxus asked.

Nodding regretfully, Freed said, "I don't think I have anything made—" and stepped further into the kitchen.

"I can cook," Laxus retorted, blocking Freed's path by opening the refrigerator. "I'm not helpless."

Freed, predictably, did not respond to this, just stuck his nose up a little and obediently perched on a stool.

Laxus grinned: he was starting to figure out how to get past Freed's code of propriety.

So Freed sat at the island and watched while Laxus stirred and heated and mixed. It was peaceful, Freed's face relaxed in a way Laxus had almost never seen him.

It made Laxus feel trustworthy and capable.

Eating seemed to sap Freed's energy again. In the middle of cheerful conversation, Freed suddenly paused and shook his head.

"I'm going to fall asleep," he said in confusion.

"So come on," Laxus laughed.

When Laxus helped him up, the idea of protesting Laxus's assistance didn't seem to cross Freed's mind.

* * *

After cleaning and meandering for a few more hours, Laxus decided to settle in for the night. He set himself up on the sofa and spent a good while trying to fall asleep. Whatever restlessness it was—from sleeping somewhere strange to worrying about Freed's health—kept him awake for a long time.

When Laxus finally fell asleep, he was woken what felt like immediately. The sound that jolted him made him go still and silent, trying to figure out why he was on alert.

It came again, a soft rushing or rustling or gasping— Freed groaned in the bedroom, and Laxus shot up. Labored breathing.

When he opened the door to Freed's room, he stayed quiet for a long second, unable to tell if Freed were awake. Another stuttering breath, and Freed rubbed at his chest; Laxus murmured his name.

"Freed?"

Freed made a pained noise.

Perching beside him, Laxus felt heat, and quickly discovered Freed was feverish. He'd thrown off most of the blankets and as a result his skin was clammy, the sweat making him cold even while his chest boiled.

"Let me see," Laxus said, touching Freed's shoulder as Freed began to shiver.

After hesitating, Freed removed his hand.

When he checked the bandage, Laxus could neither smell nor see blood. But the skin around the wound was hot, like the source of Freed's fever was buried inside it.

He realized Freed was watching his face in fear.

Laxus gave him a reassuring smile and replaced the bandages.

"You're just healing. Probably fighting off more curse. You body's working hard."

"It's…sharp," Freed coughed. "Inside."

"Is that why you're breathing hard?"

Freed nodded. "Hurts. Inhaling."

"I could…" Laxus paused. "I could numb it."

Freed's gaze sharpened and he frowned. "How?"

"Well…"

Laxus hated using this unless he had to, because it didn't always work, and it was uncomfortable to whomever he used it on.

As Freed watched Laxus flex his hand, his eyes registered understanding. "Wait…"

"It's just a small charge," Laxus said quickly. "I know…I wouldn't—I know how not to cause damage to you."

Freed nodded slowly.

"It just…might hurt," Laxus said. "At first. Before it feels better."

Freed closed his eyes. " 'Kay. Do it."

Freed clenched his hands into fists on his stomach as Laxus shifted closer. Laxus took one of Freed's hands and rubbed his knuckles, waiting until Freed relaxed and started to breathe again.

Then Laxus ran his magic into him.

Freed stiffened, and Laxus kept watch on Freed's face: tensing was a symptom, muscles always contracted under a charge, but if Freed started to show any true pain—

After several minutes, Laxus stopped and Freed collapsed like melting fluid.

"Better?" Laxus asked fearfully.

There was a terrible pause before Freed nodded.

"Much," he whispered. "Thank you."

Laxus exhaled heavily.

"You seem to be cooling down," Laxus said, a little surprised.

"Fits and starts," Freed breathed wearily. "Comes and goes. Hot, then cold. Body…"

"Is confused?" Laxus supplied.

"Annoying."

Laxus laughed softly.

"Laxus," Freed coughed, "I…"

A shiver wracked him hard enough to cut off his words. Laxus immediately reached for the blankets, trying to get them around Freed's shoulders. Freed wouldn't lay still, rolling and wincing until he'd backed across the bed away from Laxus, then snatched for Laxus's hand.

"Stay with me," Freed murmured. "Please. Please; don't…I know I'm—but…"

Laxus stopped trying to tuck him in and nodded.

"Scoot over," he said, and lay down in the space Freed made for him.

* * *

As Laxus crawled into the bed beside him, Freed kept hold of Laxus's hand, resting it on his bare stomach and playing his fingers over Laxus's knuckles. Laxus shifted carefully, and his hand seized a little on Freed's stomach, but didn't retract, and he settled so that they were gently touching along the line between their bodies. A hesitant position like Laxus was offering, but not sure the answer was yes.

Freed turned his face into Laxus's chest and relaxed. At that, Laxus stopped being careful and wrapped Freed in his warmth. A hand ran through Freed's hair, moving it to the side, and soon Freed was tucked firmly in his arms.

"How's that?" Laxus asked, voice rough.

"Perfect," Freed whispered. He felt so eager and uncertain it hurt. With a silent sigh, Freed gave in to the confusion. A tear slid sideways across his nose and he smiled.

No more questions. Don't think. Just enjoy.

* * *

Every part of Laxus's body was alive.

Freed _was_ cold, and Laxus wanted to warm him, and wanted to be close to him, and every time a shiver ran through Freed, Laxus wanted to hold him tighter and kiss his forehead and help him feel better.

It was only a little relief when Freed at last, at _last,_ fell asleep, breaths warm against Laxus's shirt. He still trembled from time to time, and Laxus massaged gently and slowly at his back. Touching so much of Freed's bare skin—Freed was vulnerable, and it tugged at Laxus's chest with hot fingers. Protect; care for; _allowed._

Closing his eyes, Laxus breathed through the weird, terrified elation in his gut.

Freed mewled against his chest and Laxus loosened his grip, hurrying to check Freed's breathing and position—but Freed snuggled closer and slept on.

His face was beautiful and peaceful like this.

Bending his head, Laxus brushed his lips over Freed's temple, light and breathy, not to wake him. Freed groaned.

In the quiet, Laxus murmured, "By the way, I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Freed is really enjoying Laxus's attentiveness. Maybe letting Laxus in is okay after all. More than okay...maybe there's something here. But...how to bring it up?


	14. Unstoppable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freed's re-injury has him on bed rest with Laxus looking out for him. Certain conversations happen that have been a long time in coming. Maybe, if Freed is lucky, he'll get a kiss, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been SO PATIENT. Thank you so, so much, lovelies. I've had Long Covid for a long time now and it doesn't look like it'll be letting go of me anytime soon. Problem of having an auto-immune disorder (something else I only recently found out).
> 
> But in between all the sleeping and being brain-dead to the world…I still adore this story so much. It's been sitting here mostly finished for a while now. It was time to write the last several scenes and put it out there in the world. :) It's not quite what I wanted or expected, as I don't have enough energy to do a content edit, but I would rather give you guys an ending than leave you hanging for months more. Enjoy!

When Freed woke up, he was the only person in the bed, but he did not feel alone. Laxus's warmth still radiated from the spot beside him, and Freed could hear sounds down the hall.

As soon as he inhaled, preparing to rise, Laxus was in the doorway.

"Freed—"

Large, warm hands helped Freed sit up, and then stayed on his biceps.

"You aren't feverish," Laxus said, running a hand over Freed's forehead. "That's good."

Freed nodded; all he could feel were Laxus's hands. Strong, caring hands.

"How…" Laxus stopped.

Tilting his head, Freed met his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Laxus asked timidly.

"Better." Freed smiled. Trying to reassure the uncertainty in Laxus's voice. "It still hurts, but not as bad as last night." Peeling the bandaging, he noted, "It's even scabbed over."

Freed was surprised to find Laxus smiling broadly.

"Good. Well, it _should_ be. It was bleeding, but not deep."

"That's still awfully quick—usually it takes a few days to stop bleeding."

Laxus growled. "I _told_ you the magic is keeping it open. Normal wounds don't do that. And you should know that."

Freed couldn't help looking a little abashed.

"Ugh, now you're paying attention to everything," Freed muttered.

Laxus turned away to fold a blanket tossed on the floor. "I've always been paying attention."

Freed blinked, but Laxus didn't turn back around.

"C'mon, Justine. If you're feeling okay, I made breakfast."

Freed stood, letting Laxus help pull him, and caught sight of himself in the mirror.

"Damn," Freed said in appreciation.

Laxus turned around and saw what Freed was admiring. The mottled yellow and purple spot on his chest was huge.

"Jackass," Laxus growled. "That dude, fucking—pushing you into—fucking jackass."

Freed laughed.

"Probably the biggest bruise I've ever had," Freed said, trying to catch Laxus's eye. "Maybe I should get a picture of it."

Narrowing his eyes, Laxus finally looked at him; he snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You'd get yourself killed if it weren't for me," Laxus muttered.

That—that was Freed's line, wasn't it?

It wasn't until he was at the table that Freed realized he'd forgotten a shirt, but he shrugged the thought off and sat. They got through a comfortable and happy breakfast, and Freed was enjoying—well, being taken care of. By Laxus.

Freed closed his eyes and swallowed. It felt so real. Like it could belong to him. But this was…it wasn't…

Laxus's fingers on his arm made him jolt.

"What hurts?" Laxus asked, kneeling at his side. "Let me see."

"No, no, it's not hurting. Sorry."

"Freed…"

"I'm telling the truth! I was just thinking," Freed said.

"You looked pretty pained for thinking."

"It was…nothing. It's just a little thought I had, it's nothing."

Laxus stood, and Freed thought that was the end of it, but Laxus suddenly pulled Freed to his feet. Gripping Freed's hand, Laxus trapped him against the table, Freed pressed up against his chest.

When Freed looked up with mouth open, Laxus's eyes were burning.

"You never have to hide, okay?" Laxus said, his voice guttural and heavy. "Not from me. Whatever it is. And if I need to work through something…I will. Just don't lie."

Freed gaped for several more seconds before Laxus released him, turning to clear their dishes.

Shocked, Freed leaned heavily against the table. Laxus moved to the kitchen to put things away, face blank.

Freed dropped his head and stared down at his fingers.

Right. Hiding. That.

"Laxus," Freed said. "We need to talk."

Laxus looked up with an expression of both surprise and veiled concern. Something behind his eyes shut down as he rounded the counter to join Freed in the living area, cautiously following suit when Freed sat on the sofa.

"I know you're angry that I did this," Freed said, motioning at his chest. "And I'm sorry."

Laxus's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "You're sorry?"

"Not for taking the hit, because I'd do that again. But…sorry for worrying you and pushing you away."

Laxus was silent for a long time. Freed began to fidget.

"You _did_ push me away," Laxus rumbled. "You were…damn cruel about it, too."

Freed looked down. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It hurt."

Glancing up, Freed watched Laxus's furrowed brows.

"Laxus." When Freed put out his hand, Laxus jumped ever so slightly, but he didn't draw away, so Freed grasped his forearm.

"Thank you," Freed said. "I'm really sorry."

"I just want to know why."

Retracting his hand, Freed sighed.

"I pushed you away because I...guess I didn't think you actually cared. I don't like insincerity."

"Why on earth would you think that?"

"I don't know." Freed hung his head. "The way you acted, things you said. It seemed you were…demeaning the actions I took on your behalf."

"Your actions were unnecessary," Laxus growled. "Not that I'm not grateful for—for everything you do, but I don't need you to step into my fights. I can handle things. I want you to trust me."

"I do trust you," Freed said. "You are one of the most capable people I know."

Laxus let out a long breath through thin lips, still watching the carpet.

"What did you mean the other day when you said you…forgave me," he asked.

Freed's eyebrows jumped.

"Exactly that." Freed rubbed his mouth. "I wanted you to know that there's nothing old lingering between us on my end; nothing I'm holding against you as a grudge."

* * *

Laxus closed his eyes. Even with everything…hearing Freed say it was a relief. Nothing held as a grudge, none of the things Laxus had done to him…

"Like what happened back then," Laxus said.

"Yeah," Freed said.

"I'm sorry."

"Laxus, I already said—"

"I never actually said I was sorry," Laxus insisted. "You…all three of you got hurt because of my choices. That's—it's my greatest regret. I'm so sorry."

"Pretty sure Bicks is grateful," Freed chortled. "That whole debacle introduced him to some new sparring partners who he has lots of fun with. You know he and Gray actually meet up every week just to fight? And Ever got a love interest out of it all, so I'm pretty sure she's grateful too."

"And you?"

Freed looked down, clasping his fingers and studying them. "I'm glad you're back. I understand, I suppose. I think I always did. They were just all so aloof. Didn't feel like we were part of them—and yet we were doing all the big jobs; felt like we were the real Fairy Tail. Getting more and more pushed out… Vijeeter hurling those wild accusations, and then when Master believed him, held our team responsible for it— You were mad. I was too. None of it was fair.

"And then—then we found out they weren't all like that. They weren't all against us. The number of people who made an effort to tell Bicks, Ever, and me that we were part of their family—I wish you could've been there and experienced it. People weren't even _mad_ at us, and they had every right to be. It was like they were relieved to have us back. Like they'd missed us.

"I cut all my hair off, and Lucy; you know what she said? She said, 'I always loved your hair.' I didn't think she knew who I _was._ After a month I finally let her grow it back out with one of her spirits because she kept commenting. It wasn't that we _became_ friends: we just _were_. Somehow, already, when I wasn't looking. Our team was already accepted. We just…we didn't know."

It was the most Laxus had ever heard Freed talk about the time while Laxus had been gone.

"What about," Laxus asked, "the part where you almost killed…and almost died? All because I told you to."

"Asked me," Freed corrected.

"Told you. I didn't exactly give you a choice."

Freed's mouth gave a wry twist. "I suppose not. You wouldn't have…"

There was a long pause.

"What?" Laxus asked.

"In Kardia Cathedral. You wouldn't have actually attacked me. Right?"

Freed looked up and Laxus was very _not_ prepared to face his gaze.

"I don't know," he whispered to the floor. "I don't know how far I would've gone back then."

The silence stretched again, Laxus waiting for Freed to comment, ask…Laxus hating himself for the truth of that statement. He honestly didn't know: he might've been capable of hurting Freed back then. He hadn't, but that was because he'd needed Freed. If Freed had outright refused to follow along, Laxus might've…fought him.

"Fuck," Laxus expelled, pressing his fingers over his eyes. "I can't believe—fuck."

Freed made a noncommittal noise and Laxus finally chanced to look at him, but Freed's eyes were hidden behind his hair, staring once more at the floor.

"In answer," Freed said carefully, "to your first question… I didn't have time to regret what I was doing. I th-thought it was right—no, that's not true. I thought it _didn't matter_. If people died…that was just something that happened when the weak went up against the strong."

A shudder ran through Freed's body, and Laxus realized: the revulsion in Freed's voice was aimed inward at himself.

"And yes, I could've died. It was quite painful; Mira gave me quite a beating," Freed chuckled. "Didn't even give me time to be afraid until after it was over. At that point, I was more focused on…well, the fact that she even still wanted to _know_ me."

Freed let out a breath.

"If you're asking whether I ever held it against you that I'd come very close to k-killing someone, and to dying, and for the fact that I had three broken ribs and that fucking _hurts_, you have no idea… No, I never held it against you. Those were _my_ choices. I did that. I did that to myself. Not you. You were…just as hurting as the rest of us."

Freed looked up with a question in his eyes, and Laxus nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I _was_ hurting, and you were too; we all were, the four of us. Doesn't forgive anything, but it's…"

"It's a reason," Freed finished. "And when you know the reason why, you can change things so that you don't do it again."

"Exactly."

While Freed leaned back and exhaled, Laxus closed his eyes and focused on letting some of the tension out of his muscles.

"Why didn't we have this conversation a lot sooner?" he murmured.

"Because we're stupid," Freed said.

They both broke into grins.

"Still," Laxus said, "even if you never blamed me for what you had to do, I blame myself. I'm sorry, and more than that, I promise: I will never again ask you to kill, or ask you to die for me."

Freed opened his mouth, but Laxus held up a hand.

"I promise. Some apologies aren't worth anything without action."

Freed gave a sad smile and nodded.

"Thank you also…for your forgiveness," Laxus said. "For giving it to me verbally. I…I needed to hear it."

"I know," Freed said. "I'm sorry too: that I didn't say it sooner. Would've saved us some heartache."

"Literally," Laxus snorted, eyeing Freed's chest.

"Okay: no." Freed gave him a resolute stare. "I was going to say it a moment ago: I'll still die for you. That's the job of a good bodyguard."

"I don't need a bodyguard."

"Numerous attempts on your life say otherwise."

"Freed!" Laxus growled. "No. You're not allowed to—to get yourself killed 'for me.' "

"Not allowed?" Freed snorted, raising an eyebrow. "That isn't your choice to make."

"Maybe not, but…" Laxus grit his teeth. "But I can still request. Please don't be stupid like this."

"Stupid?! Laxus, this is the farthest thing from illogical. It makes perfect—"

"No, it doesn't! What do you think is gonna hurt me more: if someone stabs me, or if _you_ get stabbed by someone aiming for me and I have to watch you suffer in my place? Especially if you're not gonna let me help with your injuries!"

"I'm letting you help now," Freed protested. "And it keeps you alive."

"What about _you?_"

"What _about_ me? I'm still standing here."

"You might not have been. You bled so much. You—your heart stopped a few times, and I can hear that, Freed; I had to hear it stop and wonder if it would start again, or if it was just…going…to stop. Forever. And you'd never wake up; you'd—you'd die, and we'd _bury _you, and that would be the end. _I kept having to wonder if you were ever going to be alive with us again._ I didn't know, Freed. In those moments…for those days before you woke up…we honestly didn't know.

"It's easy to look back now and say it all turned out okay, but at the time, we weren't sure of anything. We basically lived in the infirmary by your side. You would not believe how many times I found Ever—our Evergreen!—crying. Bickslow too, but he's more free with the emotions. Ever doesn't cry, and you and I both know that. But she did while you were…

"I kept wondering if that mission was going to be the last time I'd ever see you alive. The last time we ever got to talk. Or go on a job together. Maybe…maybe there wouldn't be any more missions or conversations or just going on walks…maybe that would be the last time. And I wasn't ready. I'm still not."

"Laxus."

Freed's pleading voice stopped the desperate flow of emotion. Inhaling before looking at him, Laxus was not prepared for the look of wide-eyed shock…almost _horror_ on Freed's face.

"Don't— Just stop," Freed said breathlessly.

His hands were shaking.

"I never—I don't…" Freed stammered, "I would never want you to feel that way. I'm—not ready either. I miss this when I'm gone. When I went home for those weeks… I love my mothers, but it's hard to explain: this here, the missions, the guild, our team… You're my life. I pined after this. Turns out you can't just turn off your love for the things you care about."

He let out a weak chuckle.

"We're all just guessing what will make us happy. And sometimes… Well, I guessed wrong."

* * *

Freed could feel Laxus's gaze as Freed ran his hands over his face, wiping away the sweat and heaviness of emotion. This was…harder to talk about than he would've thought.

"What do you mean?" Laxus asked, and when Freed looked up, Laxus's eyes were narrow. "You didn't want to care anymore? About—us?"

Freed swallowed.

"I was hurting," he managed.

"Because of us?" Laxus sounded pained. "Because of me?"

"What? No! No—I mean, _yes_, but not… It's not like it sounds."

"What is it like, then?"

"Laxus." Freed grabbed his arm, trying to calm him—trying to calm _himself_, he realized. Something inside him felt panicked, and he didn't know why. "I thought _you didn't care._ I thought it didn't matter if I… That's why I needed to go somewhere people cared if I lived or…or… You know? Where they would take care of me. I needed…" He pressed his face into his hands. "I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. You thought I didn't care? Then that means I was doing it wrong. Still doing it wrong. Always, apparently."

"Not always."

"Pretty much always," Laxus snorted.

"You're doing fine right now," Freed said quietly.

"I'll keep trying," Laxus said.

Eyes on the floor, Freed heard the gentleness in Laxus's voice. As he closed his eyes and sighed, Freed realized all his limbs were dragging him downward—and his chest ached.

"I'm in pain, Laxus," he said, leaning over to put his forehead against Laxus's arm. He was worn out enough that honesty was easy. "I'm really tired."

"Bed?"

"I don't want to move," Freed mumbled. The warmth of Laxus's bicep seemed to seep in and take away some of the ache.

Gently, Laxus lifted him, and Freed allowed it, didn't even try to protest. He needed this help. And that was okay.

As Laxus shouldered the bedroom door open and carried him to the bed, Freed murmured, "I don't want to die. I want to stay alive."

He didn't hear the choke in Laxus's voice when Laxus replied, "Good."

* * *

Laying Freed down and pulling the bedspread over him, Laxus just wanted to hold him. That Freed had ever wanted to die—broke his heart. It was too early for Freed to leave his life. Years, decades too early.

"Love you," Laxus said, only belatedly realizing that Freed was awake this time as he said it. "Go to sleep. Everything's taken care of."

"Okay," Freed whispered.

He already sounded asleep.

Putting a hand over his mouth, Laxus stood and watched Freed breathe for a while, the rise and fall; feeling his own air against his hand, his breath silent but alive. They were both alive.

_I want you so badly. I want to be with you always._

* * *

When Freed woke up, still exhausted, he lay on the sofa with his head on Laxus's arm while the pair read, Laxus fetching things for him whenever he needed something. It was quotidian and familial and caring, and Freed flourished in it.

It wasn't so hard to let Laxus help when he knew Laxus actually cared. When he knew Laxus wasn't angry at him. When he had admitted to himself he liked Laxus, and was choosing not to be scared of vulnerability.

* * *

A week later, Freed left his flat for the first time. He'd gone outside to get fresh air, but this was actually _Going Outside._ To the guild, to normal life, to do things.

Laxus had checked in daily, sometimes multiple times. Freed was actually healing. For real. The bruising on his chest was all but faded, and the wound a deep purple-red, no longer scabbed. He had a feeling it would turn into a brilliant scar and was thankful he didn't have Fullbuster's stripping habit.

The thing about really healing—without fighting it or forcing magic into his body or exhausting himself or anything else—was that other pains and fatigues tagged along. Freed got headaches often, and his stamina was (in his own words) shot, though the team insisted he was just a little more exhaustible.

"You're human now!" Bickslow teased him, helping Freed to his feet after an explosive end to a quest. "Want a piggyback ride, Monsieur Humain?"

Freed shoved his face away, laughing. "I can fucking walk."

"Really?" Ever asked as she and Laxus came back into view. "I don't think I can fuck and walk. Not simultaneously. Obviously I can do them separately."

This made Bicks bust a gut, and Freed too, but Freed also found himself blushing. Something about Laxus being present during this conversation.

"If everyone can walk," Laxus said, "how about we walk back to Magnolia instead of taking the train?"

Bickslow slapped Laxus's arm. "You're pathetic. It's a good thing we like you."

Laxus chortled.

They agreed to walk.

By foot, it was a two-day journey, and when dusk came and they found a ryokan, Freed had a headache again. Somewhere behind his sternum was a smaller, duller pain, but it didn't inhibit his breathing like it once had, so that was progress.

"I'm going to lie down," he said as the others left to find food. "Bring me something?"

In the dark and the quiet, the pounding seemed to slow and focus into a throbbing point behind his left eye. He was still breathing through it, breath after breath, when the door slid open.

"Freed," Laxus murmured.

Freed made a noise of attention.

"Brought you supper." Footsteps approached the futon. "Do you want me to keep the light off?"

"It's okay," Freed sighed, sitting up.

Laxus flicked on the light and sat beside him on the warm bedding, handing him a bento. As Freed opened it, Laxus's hand came up to the back of his neck and began to rub the muscles.

"Where's Bicks?" Freed asked between bites, humming in appreciation when Laxus moved his massage to the back of Freed's skull.

"They're both still eating. I came back because I figured food might help."

"Thanks." Staring into his rice, Freed wondered when this had become so normal.

It was stupid he'd ever pushed this away before.

He gasped and closed his eyes: Laxus's fingers had moved forward toward the source of his headache.

"Better?" Laxus asked softly.

"Yes," Freed groaned.

The sounds of shifting preceded Laxus nudging Freed to face him, then both hands starting gentle ministrations on his temples.

"How do you always know where to press?" Freed sighed happily.

"Because you make noise," Laxus laughed.

Afraid to drop his food, Freed set it aside without opening his eyes and soaked in the relief.

"Thank you," Freed said. "I've really appreciated your help the past few weeks."

"I'm glad to give it," Laxus replied. A pause. "Thanks for letting me."

"We're getting better at this," Freed smiled.

"Yes."

There was another long pause. Then Laxus asked, "Did your boyfriend do this for you?"

"Hmm?" Eyes closed, Freed frowned. "No. Why?"

"Mm." Laxus's shrug was audible.

"That was a funny topic to bring up."

"Just curious. Just, you know, you hardly talked about him, and we barely found out before it was over, so we didn't get to ask you questions."

"I…yeah. Sorry. It was one of those hometown flings, I guess."

"I wouldn't know," Laxus said.

Freed snorted, and heard Laxus laugh.

"All of your flings are hometown flings, you Magnolia native," Freed said.

"I've never _had_ a fling."

"Haven't you?" Freed asked. It helped that his eyes were closed; felt like they could have this intimate conversation without anyone doing anything embarrassing like blushing.

"Freed, I've never dated anyone," Laxus chortled. "I thought you knew that."

"I knew you didn't date, but didn't know that included flings," Freed said in surprise.

Laxus played his fingers across Freed's temples like a ripple along piano keys. Soothing.

"I…slept with a couple people. While I was away. Well, one person, and…made out with another. Can't say it's my proudest moment."

"Plenty of people sleep around at some point," Freed said.

"For myself, I would prefer not to. It's not me."

This revelation was a little shocking to Freed. He knew Laxus's loyalty to those he cared for ran deep, but didn't realize it extended to his love life.

"So why haven't you done any committed relationships, then?" Freed asked quietly.

The silence this time was unbearably long.

"Guess I never had the right opportunity with the right person," Laxus said.

"I'm…sorry to hear that," Freed said.

"Don't apologize." Laxus's voice was soft and close. "Patience is good for me."

Something in his tone made it sound very personal.

"L-Laxus," Freed asked, his voice thin and uncertain.

"I'm sorry," Laxus said, and Freed was going to ask what for, but then Laxus's forehead touched his. "Sorry, but I've wanted to do this for a long time."

"Do…"

Freed's words got lost in the feeling of Laxus's nearness, Laxus's breath touching his mouth, the warmth of Laxus's palm against his cheek.

Laxus nosed at him, releasing a short exhalation, and Freed tipped his chin forward.

Their lips met.

Freed's heart could've exploded. Every muscle in his body was frozen and jerky, every centimeter of attention on Laxus's mouth against his. Freed moved tentatively, and was met with Laxus's lips covering his further, the nervous movement of exploration. The dart of a tongue.

"Laxus," he whispered into the space between them—too much space, so much air that Freed was drowning in it.

He reached for Laxus's shoulder; found his neck; the warm skin under his fingers shuddered at his touch. Instead of pulling Laxus closer as he meant to, he got lost exploring the place where Laxus's top button was open, where sinew met bone and, below, Freed could feel the frantic heartbeat beneath his palm.

Laxus's hand landing on his waist nearly had him jumping back, but Laxus was already reeling him in, tugging Freed closer until Freed had to shift, ending up straddling Laxus's legs. The air between them had heated up, Freed kissing more frantically, Laxus seeking purchase inside him. When Freed let his tongue in, the caress made something snap and melt in his stomach. Laxus's hands on his back gripped and held him while Laxus sought the secrets of his lips.

When Freed thought his gut was going to explode with the intensity, Laxus's mouth suddenly left his, trailing up his jaw, leaving hard kisses in his wake. He pressed his nose into Freed's hair and inhaled deeply, shaking in Freed's embrace, and then his lips were moving again, marking a trail of heat down Freed's neck.

"Fuck," Laxus murmured, his voice destroyed and guttural, and Freed shuddered. He couldn't stop if he wanted to, not with Laxus marking his skin, not with his fingers inside the collar of Laxus's shirt, feeling along his collarbone and making him gasp.

It wasn't until the second or third button that Freed noticed the chill on his chest, the heat of Laxus's breath feathering down over bare skin.

"Lax—us," Freed tried, aware of the extensive scarring Laxus would see. "Don't look, it's nasty—"

"Shh." Laxus's lips brushed his skin. "You're beautiful."

Freed's entire body trembled.

"Let me," Laxus whispered between soft kisses around the edge of the old wound. "Please."

The touch of Laxus's mouth circled lower, across older scars, most of them obtained while keeping Laxus safe. Leaning Freed back, Laxus lowered him to the futon so they were lying in parallel, legs entwined while Laxus leaned on an elbow and still kissed around the mark on Freed's chest.

"This scar is mine," Laxus murmured. "It's because of me; it's mine."

"Okay," Freed moaned, while Laxus sucked at the divot of his sternum and ran his fingers lightly over Freed's bare side.

"Gorgeous," Laxus said, leaning up to look Freed's body up and down.

"Touch me," Freed begged. "Don't leave."

"Never," Laxus promised, leaning down to kiss much lower on Freed's abdomen.

* * *

It was a very good thing Bicks stayed out as long as he did. Freed didn't have time to consider this until afterward, when he lay against Laxus naked and panting, realizing only then that their teammate could've walked in on them at any time during the last hour. After cumming twice, Freed was too spent to get dressed, and was grateful when Laxus pulled the blanket over him, shifting another futon up next to him and lying down with Freed's hand clasped in his.

"You should sleep," Laxus murmured as Freed tried to keep his eyes open. "I've exhausted you."

"Worth it," Freed sighed.

"Yes," Laxus said. "Hey, Freed. I love you."

Eyes closing, Freed beamed.

"I love you too."

When Freed woke, both his teammates were already up, Laxus having at some point cleaned up their clothes and any other sign of their activities. Freed waited until Bickslow was in the shower before rising, still naked under the blankets.

"Wait," Laxus said when Freed went to retrieve clean clothes. "We have a few minutes. Let me just have one more…"

That was unfair, Freed decided, because staying quiet when Laxus used his mouth was nearly impossible, and because, no matter how put-together he tried to make himself, when Bickslow emerged Freed was still sweaty and red-faced.

Bickslow, luckily, seemed oblivious.

They finished the trek home, arriving at the guild in early evening, and when Freed turned his steps toward his flat, Laxus joined him without any need to ask.

"Is this just a sex thing?" Freed asked that night, between languorous kisses, staring up at Laxus above him.

"No," Laxus said, kissing down Freed's neck (which he seemed to love doing) and caressing his fingers over Freed's inner thigh. "Not for me."

"Aah-ah!" Freed spread his legs. "N-Not for me, either."

"Good." Laxus pressed his hips forward and they hissed in tandem. Connected. Intertwined. "Because I love you. And I mean it."

Freed's cry echoed the feelings of his heart, warm and complete in this quiet room where only they existed.

* * *

With time, Freed explained more. Laxus began to understand better why Freed spent so much energy pushing him away. Freed reminded him about a conversation they'd had, where Freed had brought up the hypothetical of them dating, and Laxus had laughed it off.

"I don't remember that," Laxus said seriously. "I'm sure I didn't think you meant it. I probably thought you were teasing. I thought I wasn't good enough for you."

"Never," Freed said with a smile.

It was Laxus who brought up Freed's inner darkness during his initial recovery.

"You…you were suicidal."

"I—no, not exactly," Freed stammered. "I just didn't want to try; it's a completely different thing."

"It has the same outcome," Laxus said quietly. "I'm sorry, Freed. I'm so sorry."

Freed's eyes were wide, shining.

"Me too," he whispered.

Laxus felt a tear slip down his cheek.

They held each other for a long time.

* * *

While Freed and Laxus strolled along a crowded thoroughfare, the knife came out of nowhere.

Déjà vu. Freed had experienced this before, watching the blade heading for Laxus, knowing he would be too slow to stop it.

Desperately, he threw runes. The man lost his footing, blade swinging wide, giving Laxus a second to shake out of the web of magic that flew from the blade and turn to face the attacker. It wasn't enough time for either of them to stop the man's next attack, though.

A burst of light hit Freed in the chest.

Struggling to breathe, to rise, Freed didn't see the rest of it; couldn't do a thing to help Laxus. The impact had knocked his head around, and white glowed across his eyes. He only knew when something flashed across his vision and he flung out a hand, trying to write—and Laxus caught his wrist.

"It's me," Laxus said, helping Freed sit up. "What did he do to you?"

"Are you alright?" Freed asked.

"Fine, just scratched." Laxus nodded over his shoulder. "Knocked him out. What did he hit you with? I can't see…"

Freed looked down and realized that his vision wasn't impaired: light was glowing where the magic had hit his chest.

"It hurts, I can tell you that," Freed coughed. He saw movement past Laxus's shoulder. "Laxus!"

His grip on Laxus's arm meant he was dragged to his feet when Laxus rose, both of them facing the man who was not so unconscious as he'd appeared.

"You've got a lot," the man told Freed with a smile, then flung a hand at Laxus.

Purple runes flowed from his fingers, the writing as fast as Freed's. Laxus had just enough time to brace his arms, but the runes crashed off him harmlessly, breaking up like a splash of water, and Freed suddenly knew what the man was doing.

"You're stealing it from me!" he shouted, rounding on the man but falling to his knees coughing.

"Not fast enough," the man snarled. Freed felt a tearing pain in his chest and the man again wrote runes at Laxus, which again did nothing.

Using Freed's magic on Laxus would never work: Freed had written a spell some time ago to keep his runes from harming Laxus.

Untouched, Laxus shrugged and charged in with magic sparking across his fists. The man grunted in frustration and swung out with his knife instead.

"No—" Freed tried to leap forward but crashed to the ground. The pain in his chest had opened up into a well of emptiness, sucking his breath and energy from him.

Laxus's magic-wrapped fist met the sharp side of the blade and stopped, magical pressure protecting him as they pushed against one another. Just like that, the pressure was gone from Freed's insides and he gasped in air—and had a terrible thought.

"Look out—" he cried, but not in time: light bloomed between Laxus and his opponent, shooting past Laxus's fists and hitting him in the stomach.

Laxus snarled and grunted before dropping to his knees.

Magic nearly depleted, Freed threw himself forward and drew his sword, forcing the man out of reach of Laxus. Freed held his saber in a defensive stance and put himself between them, Laxus still on the ground.

Lightning glowed in the man's hand. Shit. Even with his sword, Freed knew taking this hit would hurt.

"Freed."

Laxus was breathing hard, but standing, slumped to the side as his magic drained out of him. He grabbed Freed's shoulder.

"Let me."

"What—"

"Let me," Laxus repeated, and wrapped himself around Freed as the lightning hit them.

Maybe Freed let him because he knew lightning couldn't do much damage to Laxus. Or maybe because he trusted Laxus. The magic washed over them with Freed feeling no more than a buzz, and he melded into Laxus's embrace. They could do this teamwork thing. Freed could trust Laxus; he didn't have to do everything himself.

When the rain of electricity ceased, Laxus wobbled once, grinned at Freed, and fell to the ground.

Freed went cold.

Then he turned into pure fury.

The young man's face was both victorious and confused, as if unsure why Freed was still standing if Laxus wasn't, and it took him a little too long to recover himself. Freed lunged in, energy suddenly bubbling inside him.

The man parried, but it was flustered and delayed. Blades slid against each other. To Freed's annoyance, the young man got a lucky, clumsy cut in and gashed the back of Freed's hand.

On his next move, Freed knocked the man's knife away with one well-aimed stab. The next opened the man's thigh, and then his stomach, and with that, the man dropped. The light of his magic winked out on Laxus's chest.

Freed bound him up in runes—including some across his wounds; Freed wouldn't be killing anyone today. Then he knelt at Laxus's side and shakily checked him over.

Laxus's shirt had been blasted off, and a spider web of burns crisscrossed his back. It shouldn't _do_ that to him. Not lightning. Not Laxus's own magic.

But Laxus was struggling to breathe, and if he'd been completely emptied…that would make him like any other human. It would make him susceptible even to this.

Freed got him to the infirmary in a rushed haze of too many thoughts, brushing people off at the guild and barely registering when Mira patted his arm. Tired as he was, he stayed resolutely at Laxus's side, holding his hand, while Wendy healed Laxus's burns and explained that she couldn't refill Laxus's magic. Beyond doing a spell to help him breathe, she couldn't fix the rest of it.

"He'll recover his ethernanos over time," Ever replied. "He's bounced back from worse."

Freed didn't remember when she and Bickslow had gotten here, but he shared a worried look with Bicks. Yeah, sure, they all knew what Laxus could do. But he'd been emptied completely, and what if he developed magical deficiency disease? What if this was like the bane particles all over again?

"It's just like last time," Evergreen said. Wendy and Mira had left, leaving their team alone, and Ever seemed to shrink down now. "All over again."

Bickslow nodded.

"I know," Freed said. "But we'll find a way."

The pair looked at him.

"How would you know?" Ever asked. "Last time something like this happened, you were unconscious."

"I thought you meant—when he—with Bane…"

Ever and Bicks looked at each other.

"She meant last time when it was _you_," Bickslow said.

Again, the pair looked at Freed.

"Right," Freed stammered. "But this time, we'll find a way to help him."

* * *

Laxus awoke to cool evening light and the wooden beams of the infirmary ceiling. The room was silent and unoccupied, but it was not devoid of life signs. Half a roll of bandaging sat on a counter alongside several bottles, and there was the faint smell of blood.

He pieced together what must've happened; ascertained that his magic was still depleted. However, his skin had the fuzzy feeling of recent healing.

Testing his voice with a hum, Laxus called out softly. "Hello?" Then, guessing, "Freed?"

No answer.

Coughing, he looked around; sat up; decided he was too tired and lay back down. He called again.

Mira poked her head in and broke into a surprised smile. "We didn't expect you to wake until tomorrow."

"Where's Freed?"

"He and the other two are scheming. I'll fetch them."

Scheming was promising: scheming meant Freed wasn't badly hurt.

Sure enough, when the team entered, the only visible injury was a bandage on Freed's hand. On the other hand, Freed was in only the fitted shirt he wore beneath his coat, and while Laxus wouldn't complain about the unhindered view of Freed's silhouette, it was unlike him to be so informal outside his flat. Freed had been worried.

Freed also looked slightly…sheepish, or ashamed, or some restless emotion too hidden for Laxus to make out.

"I see you scrunching your nose," Bickslow snorted. "No, neither of you is badly cut open anywhere. The caustic smell is probably the injections."

Despite weariness, Laxus levered up into a sitting position. "What injections?"

Freed opened his mouth, but Ever beat him to it.

"Ethernanos. Bicks and Freed share a blood type. Nobody currently at the guild has yours, unfortunately."

Laxus closed his eyes to process. "So it _was_ draining magic. It felt like it, but I didn't have much time to analyze it."

"Yes." Freed's voice finally broke in, cool and calm like a summer evening. "He didn't quite empty me, and with Bicks being generous enough to share his blood, I'm recovering. You, on the other hand, were completely drained."

Laxus winced and nodded.

"But," Freed went on, "we're working to figure out a way to recover your ether levels."

"I just need time," Laxus shrugged. "And rest. C'mon, you know that's how it works."

All three of them looked at him skeptically.

"I'm sorry, honey, but being empty is dangerous for anyone, and you in particular have a lot of magic power," Evergreen said. "More potential for issues. Let's not have you develop any side effects, yeah? Sure, you can recover slowly by waiting, but we might as well help nature along."

It was Laxus's turn to be critical, raising an eyebrow and looking between them. "What did you have in mind?"

"Ah. Still figuring that out," Freed admitted.

Freed turned the conversation to their captured attacker, and they filled him in on what they knew. The knights would take things from here. After that, their talk turned mundane and casual, and like good friends, they kept him distracted from the fact that exhaustion had essentially chained him to a bed.

Eventually, Laxus had enough energy to sit up fully and put his feet on the floor, a move which had Freed freaking out and leaping forward to grab him.

Again, Laxus wouldn't exactly complain, but he didn't like Freed being all jumpy. Some things just shouldn't be.

"I'm allowed to go home, yes?" Laxus said more than asked.

Sighing, Freed smiled. "Yes. I'll help you get home."

The other two parted ways with them on the walk there, heading to their own homes, until it was just him and Freed, stepping in the door of his darkened flat.

Disengaging from Freed, who had helped support him with an arm around his waist, Laxus asked, "Now will you tell me what you're not telling me?"

Freed looked at him in genuine surprise.

"There isn't anything."

"Really. You're just this worried over nothing?"

"It's not nothing, Laxus," Freed said.

Helping Laxus to the sofa, Freed fetched them both water and sat beside him.

"It's not nothing," Freed continued after a long minute. "You protected me."

"Well, yeah."

Freed was studying the top button of Laxus's shirt.

"So I guess this is what it feels like, huh?" Freed's chuckle was weak. "Having to watch you be hurt."

"Yeah," Laxus sighed, finally getting what was bothering him. "This is exactly what it's like."

"Mm."

Freed still hadn't looked up. Trying to catch his eye, Laxus said, "Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"At least I'm letting you help," Laxus couldn't help saying. "You're welcome."

Finally, a smirk appeared on Freed's face, sliding into a wistful smile. "I care about you a lot. I'll help in whatever way you need."

* * *

Maybe it was good for Freed that they never did find a way to help Laxus recover; he did so naturally, ethernanos filling his body over the course of the following week and a half. Freed watched him, and worried, and thought.

Laxus was strong. He would bounce back. Freed _knew_ that. It wasn't because he doubted Laxus that he fussed when Laxus got hurt.

He just didn't like feeling useless. Feeling _not enough._

"It's selfish of me, isn't it?" he asked one day out of the blue, while the pair were sitting in Laxus's kitchen.

Laxus looked up from his sandwich. "…What is?"

"I don't like being unable to help you when you're hurt. It makes me feel…un-useful. Because, somewhere inside, I have this fear that urges me to always be necessary to you."

Laxus raised an eyebrow.

"You think that I'll leave you if I don't need you?" Laxus asked quietly.

Freed felt his face flinch into a frown, wary of the thought, of the pain of it. Because…his mind knew that wasn't true, but his heart wasn't so sure. His heart really, really didn't want to be lonely.

"Maybe," Freed murmured.

Laxus nodded slowly, eyes on the distance. "Me too. And maybe, too, I'm afraid that if I cause you too much trouble, you won't want to be with me anymore."

"Never," Freed said instantly.

A smile tipped up Laxus's mouth.

"You can't know the future, Freed."

"I can know my own mind. I can know my own choices. And you know I would never leave you over something so petty as you causing me 'trouble.' "

Laxus's low, rumbling laugh jolted Freed out of his impassioned frown.

"What?"

"You're so serious," Laxus teased. "You're goddamn unstoppable. And I love you."

"Are you making fun of my convictions?"

"Not at all." Standing, Laxus came over to him and pulled Freed to his feet, staring into his eyes. "I like your convictions. I'm letting you know that you look cute when you get all stubborn."

Freed pouted indignantly, which made Laxus snort, and a second later the expression was getting kissed off Freed's face.

"Love you," Laxus mumbled between kisses.

He pulled Freed close, nose against Freed's cheek.

"Even if you were useless," Laxus added. "I can be unstoppable too."

Freed had to clear his throat of emotion.

"Promise," Laxus assured him, and Freed pulled him in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, let me know if you enjoyed it, geek out with me over how fantastic these two are. xoxo


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